Black, White, and Everything In Between
by TheGreenBook
Summary: This is a Circle Era story set 18 years before City of Bones, focusing on Michael Wayland's point of view. His relationship with Robert Lightwood will be examined, as well as his role in the Circle, and the Uprising. This story can compliment another Circle Era story I have written, Viva La Vida. Please Enjoy and Review!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**Hello and welcome to my brand new fanfiction! Thank you for checking it out. I absolutely love writing fanfiction regarding the Circle Era. This new story will focus on Michael Wayland, and the part he played in the Circle and Uprising.**

**First, a disclaimer:**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. This is a work of fiction based on the characters in Cassandra Clare's Mortal Instruments series. I own none of these characters. No money is being made on this work. This is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. This story will contain M-rated situations, as well as massive amounts of artistic license.****AWFUL THINGS HAPPEN IN THIS STORY. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.****I will accept critiques but not flames. Reviews are most definitely encouraged and will motivate me to update faster. Please be gentle with your criticism, at least, in the beginning. I feel horribly out of practice with this. **

**Second: This story came out of how much I enjoyed writing Viva La Vida, which focused on Stephen Herondale. This story will NOT be Viva La Vida from Michael's point of view, but being that both stories deal with the Circle, there may be some parts of this story that were previously seen in Viva La Vida. This story can be considered a compliment to Viva La Vida. In reading one, the other, or both, you will get both sides of the story, between Michael and Stephen. **

**I'm sorry this chapter is so long. That won't always be the case. This is long merely because it's the first chapter. Please read, review, and most of all, enjoy! **

* * *

**Black, White, and Everything in Between**

**Chapter 1**  
_**May**_

When Michael woke up from the dream, his chest was covered in a thin layer of sweat and the dorm room was cold. The dream had seemed so real, the fear, so evident, for a moment, Michael could still feel the ice water on his chest, the waves crashing over him and pushing him under. Robert had been holding his hand, pulling him away from the water, trying to save him, yet the waves had ripped them apart. When they separated, it had been the pain in Michael's heart that tore him from his slumber and sent him sitting upright, wild eyes searching the room.

"Robert," Michael said, gasping for air.

The room was pitch black save for a circle of blue light across the room. Michael fell from his bed and crossed the room, one hand reaching out only to find that the bed across the room still had the covers pulled tight, the way the bed was made every morning. The bedroom window was open, a cool breeze coming in, so Michael shoved the window shut and sat down on the bed, shivering from the perspiration cooling across his shoulder blades. Several blonde curls were stuck to his forehead and he pushed them out of his eyes, taking a few more breathes before reaching over to grab a tattered flannel blanket from the end of the bed which he wrapped around his shoulders.

It had been just a dream. Only a dream.

Weak and exhausted, Michael lay down on his parabatai's bed, stretching out on the tightly pulled covers, turning his face to breathe in the soft, subtle scent of Robert's spiced aftershave as his heartbeat slowed.

Robert had never been what someone might consider a saint. Every minute of every day with Robert was a battle of wills, of Robert testing boundaries and flirting with consequences. Tonight was no different. Tonight Robert had left the dorm room, promising he would be back, though he had made that promise when the moon was low in the sky and now it was overheard, casting a single patch of light on the windowsill. Rules and laws and structure had never mattered much to Robert, who believed that it was possible to operate outside the rules and had been doing so for the last four years, since he and Michael had arrived in Idris, their parabatai runes freshly applied.

The Robert that Michael knew, loved, and endured stood half a head taller than Michael. He had grown from a boy with arms and legs that were too long for him into a man who was stocky, his arms thick with muscle, his hair raven black, his eyes both dark and probing, the sort of eyes that made people tell the truth no matter the cost. Robert was a Lightwood, a member of an upstanding family which had originated in London, though Robert had been raised in manor homes and Institutes all over the world.

Despite how particular and smart mouthed and downright difficult Robert had been in his youth spent in London, Michael found him to be perfect. Robert was strong and brave in the times when Michael was frightened, and Robert was always the one who was ready to take the first step while Michael was a step behind. They grew up together, with Robert bringing Michael out of his shell and teaching him to be bold. Michael gave Robert an outlet for his excessive energy, and gave him something else he hadn't had before: both a brother he got along with, and a best friend.

A creak of a floorboard caused Michael to roll over on Robert's bed and look at the door, his breath held as he waited for the doorknob to turn, though it never did. The noise must have come from upstairs. The Academy dorms were stacked four stories high (first years on the top floor, fourth years on the ground floor) and were laid out around a courtyard filled with dirt and grass, the boys on one side of that great expanse and the girls on the other. After lights out, when doors that were usually left open were locked, the only way to get from the boy's side of the dorms to the girl's side was to step into the courtyard and risk being seen.

Nothing good could come from sneaking to the girl's dorms, Michael knew. If caught, the punishment would be severe, at the very least a letter home to parents, at the very worst, expulsion. For Michael, the first child of his family to attend the Academy, this wasn't worth the risk, but Robert had always been stupid, lucky, or a mixture of both, and evaded detection time and time again.

Michael closed his eyes and took a breath, resting a hand over his chest. He imagined climbing out of bed, going to the door, opening it, and stepping into the dark hallway. When it was late at night the hallway was only lit by witch light torches that burned dimly in the walls. If Michael were to be so bold, he would follow these lights down the hallway, past the bathrooms, past more doors decorated with names and pictures, all closed and locked for the night. At the end of the hall, Michael would slip first into an atrium lined with stained glass windows, then through a door and out into the courtyard.

At this time of night the courtyard would be empty. If he heard no sounds, Michael would stay close to the building, skirting the edge of the courtyard, and walk to the far corner of the dorms, to a window with an aloe vera plant sitting on the sill. Here, Michael would knock softly on the window, and if luck were to be on his side, the window would open and a hand would slip out. This hand would be decidedly soft and feminine, marked by a turquoise bracelet the girl hadn't taken off since Michael had given it to her. If the world would stop turning for just a moment, Michael would take that hand with the turquoise bracelet on it and ever so gently press his lips to the pale skin of that exposed wrist, just over the blue veins that ran from her heart to her hand and back again. That one touch would be all Michael would ever need of Josephine.

Josephine.

She was so close yet a world away, not able to be seen until the next morning at breakfast. Josephine Lancaster was Josie long before she was Josephine. She was a childhood friend of Michael's, who chased him around the London Institute with a wooden sword and caused him to fear for his life until one day he found himself chasing her. Josie went from a little girl in blonde pigtails and gappy teeth to a woman who was tall and strong, beautiful, kind, and not the least bit threatening. They went from friendship to something more in the span of a year, their formal courtship lasted a summer. As summer drew to a close and the weather got cold, Michael gave Josephine a silver bracelet inlaid with turquoise and asked her to marry him. She accepted without hesitation. Just a few weeks after graduating from the Academy, Michael and Josie were to marry in a small ceremony held beneath a cypress tree at his parent's manor home.

Michael felt his heart beat a little faster and he rested his hand over it, taking a few breathes and beginning to discern, almost immediately, the source of the change in heartbeat. It wasn't Josephine this time, this felt different, deeper, somehow. In the way Michael knew when Robert was happy or sad, he knew when something spiked Robert's adrenaline. Maybe a teacher had caught him walking out of the girl's shower room with a towel slung around his hips. Maybe he was in a dark closet, sweaty hands on his own fiancees' thighs, his pants around his knees as he thrust silently and bit at the skin of her neck, leaving bruises and bites she wouldn't be able to explain the next morning. Michael made a fist and bit his lower lip, smiling. With Robert, the possibilities were endless.

* * *

When Michael opened his eyes again, the bedroom door was closing and a shadow was moving across the room. There was a sigh, and then Robert laid a hand on Michael's shoulder, then leaned over him to push the window open. He sat on the edge of the bed and Michael heard shoes hit the floor before Robert stretched out on the bed.

This bed had been bigger before, when they were younger. Michael could feel every bone of Robert's spine as he pressed close. He could feel the humid warmth of Robert's skin, the subtle scent of liquor, sweat, and spicy aftershave mixing with the crisp night air. Michael closed his eyes, feigning sleep. He didn't want to know where his parabatai had been on this night.

* * *

The next morning came with songbirds and sunshine beaming into Michael's eyes, and a persistent bugle player who woke up the Academy with the same obnoxious song played morning after morning. Michael opened his eyes and sat up, one hand reaching over to find the bed empty. The door opened and Robert walked in again, a towel around his hips, fresh from the showers.

"I waited up for you," Michael said softly. He climbed out of bed and went over to a clothesline, pulling a pair of pants down to put them on. Robert nodded and dropped his towel to the floor. Despite knowing every inch of Robert's body (every rune, every scar, and every imperfection) Michael still found his eyes widening at the sight of so much skin, already tan from being out in the sun.

"You waited up for me?" Robert asked. He pulled a pair of pants on with a little sigh and gave Michael a curious smile.

"You said you would be right back," Michael said, looking away. He pulled his own pair of pants on and grabbed a shirt, noticing as soon as it hit his shoulders that it was a much finer grade of cotton, lighter and breathable, not to mention better made, than any of his own shirts. Robert smirked and nodded.

"I'm never right back," he said. "You should have gotten your rest. You know I go out sometimes."

"Sure, sometimes, but this is becoming a nightly occurrence. It was twice this week," Michael said, starting on the shirt buttons. "You're going to get caught."

"What are they going to do? Expel me? Hold me back a year? I'm 18. I'm older than you." Robert said. Robert turned away and opened his trunk, looking for a shirt. With his back to him, Michael could see runes running down either side of Robert's spine in a neat, orderly line. When he was much younger, Robert was afraid of taking runes. He had cried in the ballroom of the London Institute at the age of twelve when he got his first rune, embarrassing his father. Because of this, when it came time for the second rune, Michael drew it himself, in the privacy of a room, far away from anyone else. When Robert had cried, Michael promised not to tell.

Nearly all of the runes on Robert's body had been drawn with Michael's own stele. The bloody scratches across the top of Robert's back, however, were new.

"I don't know what excitement sneaking off holds for you," Michael said, stepping closer. He licked his finger tip before tracing the length of a scratch, watching as Robert's muscles contracted. Michael flattened his hand and ran it, gently, over Robert's back, over the scratches that had been put there in any way but lovingly.

"Give me one more month," Robert said. "One more month, and then I'll be married, and we will be away from here, and practically adults, and we'll be able to breathe." Robert pulled his shirt and boots on before stepping over to Michael, reaching down to button each of the buttons on the shirt. Michael moved his hands out of the way, knowing that sometimes, Robert sought control.

"One more month," Michael said. "One more month and then we will have graduated and you'll be married and you won't be sneaking out of our dorm room because you won't need to." Robert rolled his eyes and spun Michael around, shoving him towards the door. Michael only had a chance to reach back and grab Robert's arm, pulling him after him, as they stepped into the hallway at nearly the exact same moment the rest of the doors opened and students poured into the hall, the noise and the life signaling the start of another day.

* * *

The dining hall was just filling up when Robert and Michael collected their food and went to sit at a table in the corner of the room, beside a long line of windows that over looked the front lawn of the school. Robert had commandeered this table midway through their first year and it had been the place they sat with various friends for their entire school career. Robert sat down first with his back to the wall and Michael sat at his right side. Maryse Trueblood, Robert's fiancee, showed up next, crossing the dining hall and sitting beside Robert, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She dropped her school bag to the floor and gave Michael barely a nod of greeting as her left hand slipped beneath the table and ended up, more than likely, on Robert's upper thigh.

"Top of the morning," Michael said sarcastically.

"Nice shirt," Maryse replied. "I bet it doesn't have your initials embroidered in the collar."

"It doesn't," Michael said, without missing a beat, "Your fiancé gave it to me right after I climbed out of his bed." Maryse's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and Michael knew he had her beat.

"That's enough out of the both of you," Robert said. Maryse smirked and grabbed a strawberry from Robert's plate. She licked her lips, closed her eyes before taking a bite of it. Michael felt his confidence starting to slip, but then Maryse always had that affect on him.

Maryse did things just to torment boys. She wore her skirts a tad too short and her pants a tad too tight. Her breasts weren't ample and yet today they were threatening to spill out of the top of the v-neck shirt she wore along with her gear. Her hair was pulled back into a severe braid, and even without makeup, her eyes were wide and bright. The end of a rune on her chest curled beneath the seam of her shirt. Michael was aware he was staring; he just couldn't tear his eyes away from that rune, wanting to know where it ended up.

Robert sighed easily, then sat back in his seat and kicked Michael in the shin. Michael tore his eyes away from Maryse's bosom and kicked back. Robert picked up his butter knife and aimed for Michael's hand; Michael picked up Robert's coffee and drank half of it. Maryse sighed and looked across the dining hall, her eyes searching for someone, anyone.

"If you don't get yourself laid, I will," Robert said, leaning close to Michael.

"I don't need laid," Michael replied, dropping the coffee cup back onto the saucer. Maryse arched an eyebrow and finished the strawberry. "I don't." Maryse took another strawberry and savored it, tilting her head back and letting out a sigh of satisfaction as her hand traced up the side of her neck. Michael saw the Lightwood ring on her right ring finger.

"Don't torment the poor boy. He's got principles, remember," Robert said. "He's saving himself for his wedding night."

"I am not," Michael said. Robert rolled his eyes. "I'm not!"

"My sweet boy," Robert said, "My sweet, incorruptible boy, when will you have some fun?" He drummed his finger tips on the back of Michael's hand.

"Not all of us can afford to sneak out," Michael mumbled.

"You snuck out?" Maryse asked. "Where did you go?" Robert sipped the rest of his coffee before trading his cup with Michael's. Michael stole a piece of Robert's bacon and chewed it noisily. "Robert."

"I went out for a drink. It's almost the weekend," Robert said. "It's Friday, right? What is so wrong with going out for a drink on Friday morning?"

"You're going to get kicked out," Maryse whispered. Robert shrugged and finished his coffee. "Never mind that. I found this beneath my door this morning." Maryse glanced around the room, glancing at the table full of faculty sitting at the head of the room before she pulled a rolled up sheet of paper from her school bag and slid it over to Robert.

"It's from Valentine Morgenstern," Robert said, "he's calling a meeting of the Circle at Goody's, and is inviting all those who want to join the Circle to attend the meeting."

Michael sat back in his seat, and reached over and grabbed the paper. Robert pulled it away. "Six months ago, Valentine Morgenstern was thrown off campus for trying to recruit students to a secret society. Now he's back, shoving notes beneath doors, inviting students to top secret meetings at the local cake and bake shop? The man has screws loose. Plural. Screws," Michael said.

"It's not a secret society," Maryse said. "It's a political organization. Valentine wants to bring about reform. Michael, you're interested in the laws, and Robert, you're always talking about what you want to see changed. Maybe this is a chance to change something. To give us all a brighter future." Robert rolled the note up and shoved it in his pocket.

"I don't see how a couple of shadowhunters meeting at a bakery could change anything," Robert said. "Were barely adults in the eyes of the Clave. We can't change anything. This is it, Maryse, we marry and make babies and kill demons and die doing it, and nothing is ever going to change that."

"Just go to the meeting for me," Maryse said. "Michael. Robert. Do it for…" She didn't need to say any more. Her eyes went to the faculty table at the head of the room, to the man sitting at the end of it who had dark hair and downcast eyes.

Maxwell Trueblood was an instructor at the school, and in a few weeks time, he would be Robert's brother in law. Michael hardly knew him, as Maxwell had been two grades above he and Robert when they had started school and was now a weapons instructor for the first and second year students. Robert had told Michael the story anyway, how Maxwell had met a girl when he was 16 and fell in love with her, dooming himself to a life of heartbreak. The girl was a mundane, someone of the human race, who wasn't to know about the Shadowhunters. Twice Maxwell had brought the case before the Clave and twice they rejected the girl as a prospect for Ascension. Now Maxwell faced a decision: choose the Shadowhunters and leave the girl behind, or strip his runes and leave the Shadowhunters, and his family, behind to become a mundane.

"We'll think about it," Robert said. He nudged Michael, who turned his head as Josie stepped into the dining hall and came over to the table. Like Maryse, Josie was already dressed in gear, as the female Shadowhunters trained in the morning, the males in the afternoon. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she wore no makeup, just a little gloss on her lips that made them look pinker.

"I missed you," Michael whispered as she sat beside him.

"I missed you more," Josie said, and took his hand beneath the table, hiding from the faculty's view. "I can't wait to marry you." Robert raised an eyebrow, causing Michael to blush. "So." She let go of Michael's hand and reached for her fork. "Stephen and Amatis are going to sit with us this morning."

"No," Robert said. "There is a whole dining hall full of tables. I don't want to be seen with either of them."

"They are friends," Josie said. "They asked to sit with us. Stephen did, anyway. He asked for you, Michael."

Robert glared at Michael, then softened his gaze. "I suppose this will count as an act of charitable goodwill," he said, "We were put on this earth to help the helpless, were we not?"

Michael could never explain Robert's dislike of Stephen. They had all trained together, the three of them, when they were younger, but if Michael left Robert and Stephen alone things always dissolved into a disagreement. Stephen thought Robert was stuck up and judgmental, Robert thought Stephen was the spoiled son of the head of the London Enclave. Michael was a friend to them both, or at least he tried to be, and constantly tried to keep the peace with them.

Michael and Stephen had grown up together in London. They were similar in age and build and were occasionally mistaken for one another by the older council members, but that was where the similarities ended. Stephen had been Institute raised, giving him access to the best tutors, trainers, and weapons. His father had retired from running the Enclave to bring Stephen to Idris to study at the Academy.

The feud between Robert and Stephen had only gotten worse with the introduction of Amatis Graymark. Michael could see Stephen crossing the dining hall now, his blond hair and blue eyes inclined towards a girl with dark hair and round cheeks spotted with freckles. Stephen was head over heels for Amatis and had been since the day he met her at school over a year before. Amatis was quiet and kind, Stephen was studious and shy, yet they brought out the best in one another to anyone they came in contact with.

Stephen's smile faded as he came closer to the table. Amatis said something to him quietly and he glanced at Michael before sitting beside Josie. Amatis sat at the end of the table and busied herself with opening a milk carton and pouring some into two cups of tea sitting on their breakfast tray. A bloodstone ring sat on her left ring finger, her engagement ring from Stephen. Robert picked up his knife and buttered a piece of toast, the scrape, scrape_, scrape_ of metal on bread the only noise heard at the table.

There were rumors about Amatis and her family, rumors she never put to rest. Stephen once told Michael that Amatis's father had died constructing an Institute in some far off land, and that her mother had never been the same after hearing news of his death. Michael had heard other things, that Amatis's mother had abandoned her and Lucian, her older brother, when they had been 16 and 12, and that Lucien had raised his sister until they were finally taken in by a family in Alicante.

"Michael. I got this last night," Stephen said, sliding a rolled up piece of paper over to Michael, who picked it up.

"Why would the Circle want you?" Robert asked, giving Stephen a once over. He reached across Michael and took the paper from Stephen. "They want real Shadowhunters, not… Herondales."

"What's the supposed to mean?" Michael asked. Robert shrugged.

"I have no idea. I woke up and the note was there," Stephen said, ignoring Robert. "My parents would kill me if I took up with an organization that questioned the Clave." He picked up his teacup and had a sip, meeting Michael's eyes.

"And do you always do what your parents tell you to do, Herondale?" Robert asked. He took a bite of toast and chewed, waited patiently for a reply. Stephen fidgeted. "Do you?"

"Leave him alone," Michael mumbled.

"If you say so," Robert said, still looking at Stephen.

"I can't go to the meeting even if I wanted to. Amatis and I have to go home this weekend, and we are leaving right after school. Amatis has a dress fitting and there are a few things we have to do for the wedding," Stephen said. He rested a hand on Amatis's upper back and gave her a smile she returned.

"Convenient," Robert said.

"We should go visit your parents this weekend," Josie mumbled. She ran her fingertips up Michael's arm, causing him to relax at her touch. "We are going to be busy for the next few weekends, and then we have the wedding…"

"I would only want to go for the day," Michael said. "Leave in the morning and return that night. It's too hard to pack things to stay the weekend. Besides…" Michael didn't want to admit that sometimes he felt like a stranger in his parent's home. Maybe it would be easier when he had Josie with him, acting as a buffer between he and his parents.

"Of course," Josie replied, "anything you want."

"I'll go to the meeting," Robert said. "Michael. Are you coming with me?" Robert turned his attention to Michael, as did everyone else at the table.

"If you say so," Michael said.

* * *

It wasn't until they had gotten to class and sat down that Michael spoke again. Stephen was at the front of the room, sitting at a desk by himself, and Michael had half a mind to go sit with him instead of Robert, who would no doubt fall asleep halfway through class, then wake up at the end of it assuming that Michael had taken notes for the both of them.

"I thought you were with Maryse last night," Michael mumbled. "If you were with her, how did you not know about the meeting?"

"I knew about it," Robert said, staring straight ahead at the blackboard, "I just didn't tell you."

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**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Please review and sign up for updates! The second chapter is complete! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading, and for checking out the second chapter of this story. Please enjoy!**

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**Chapter 2**

Later in the afternoon, during a free period following lunch, Michael and Robert sat beneath a tree on the front lawn on the school to enjoy the shade and the warm spring day. Michael had his back to a tree, reading a book, as Robert lay with his head in Michael's lap, one arm thrown over his eyes.

Sitting on the front lawn was a privilege that only the fourth years got to enjoy. Fourth years were also given the luxury of coming and going as they pleased if they wanted to leave the Academy for lunch or dinner. They only had to be back before lights out, or midnight on weekends. For a seventeen year old, boarding at the Academy, the town of Alicante held all sorts of delights. There were a few taverns in town which served alcohol. There was also a magnitude of little shops which carried everything from clothes to books to magical items, and quaint little bakeries and restaurants which served food from all over the world.

The front gates of the Academy opened onto a street leading into town. The school was located on the outskirts of Alicante, which made walking into town for dinner or treats take effort. It would be at least a ten minute walk to Goody's, the closest bakery, and where Valentine Morgenstern was planning to hold his Circle meeting that evening. Goody's had many delightful treats, the best being a croissant filled with chocolate bars, with chocolate drizzled on the top of it. Going to the bakery now would make Michael late for his next class, but it would be worth it.

Today, with the sun bright and the sky cloudless, the lawn was a popular place to be. Stephen and Amatis were sitting in a far corner, holding hands as they talked quietly. Stephen's blonde hair was golden in the sun, making him look like an angel. Amatis's freckles were turning red and she was smiling, looking into Stephen's eyes. As Michael watched, Stephen took Amatis's hand and traced a line on her palm, causing Amatis to laugh and pull her hand away. Stephen looked up into her eyes, an odd half smile on his face, before he rested a palm on her jaw and kissed her lips.

Close by, Maryse and Josie were sitting together, Josie braiding her hair as Maryse poured over a wedding magazine she had probably procured from Amatis, who was the only girl Michael knew who needed a mundane wedding magazine to plan her wedding. Maryse and Amatis got along fairly well and Josie was welcoming to anyone, something Michael loved about her. It was Robert who disliked Stephen, who kept he and Amatis from their little circle of friends.

Robert sighed and moved his head a little, his eyes opening, causing Michael to look down. Robert smiled and reached up, locking his hands around the back of Michael's neck, pulling Michael down closer before releasing him. Michael sat back and looked around, seeing who might have seen such an exchange, though Stephen and Amatis were still wrapped up in one another.

Josie had noticed, though she gave Michael a pout as she spoke to Maryse. She was wearing a skirt for her afternoon classes, her legs already tan from the summer and muscular from four hours of training every day. Michael ran his eyes over her legs, seeing every exposed inch of them, wanting to see more. He felt Robert drum his fingers beneath his chin and looked down, turning his attention back to his jealous parabatai.

It wasn't unusual for them to sit like this. Robert wanted to nap and insisted that Michael made a good pillow, and besides, Robert pointed out, men and women weren't allowed to lie together or publicly display affection while on school grounds, but the rules never said anything about two men laying in close proximity to one another. Doing this was just another Robert rebelled against the rules. Michael allowed it because he would do anything Robert asked of him without a second thought.

"You know, if you hadn't spent the night doing who knows what, you wouldn't need to nap every other hour to feel somewhat alive," Michael said. "Where did you go?"

"The library. I was studying," Robert said.

"Don't lie to me," Michael said softly.

"You don't want to know the truth. You can't handle the truth," Robert said. He sat up and stretched with a yawn before leaning heavily against Michael. "Why did you sleep in my bed?"

"You know exactly why," Michael said.

"That reason is going to make your marriage to Josie most awkward," Robert said. He nudged Michael hard, causing Michael to fall onto his side as Robert rolled on top of him and mussed his hair, one hand reaching down to tickle his lower stomach. Michael let out a moan he couldn't hold back and reached between them, trying to pull Robert's hand away as Robert gasped, trying not to laugh out loud. Michael whimpered and Robert exhaled warm air against his neck, causing Michael to shiver before doubling his efforts to get free.

"Stop that," Maryse said evenly as she stared over at them. Michael shoved Robert hard and rolled away as Robert looked up at the tree above them, giggling.

"My apologies," Michael said. Robert scowled at Maryse and sat up.

"Later," Robert said, nudging Michael hard once more.

"Sure, later," Michael said. Maryse turned her attention back to her magazine."So, are you coming home with Josie and I for Stephen's wedding?" Two weeks before, an envelope made of heavy cardstock and addressed in hand written calligraphy had arrived in Robert and Michael's room. Robert had found the whole matter endlessly funny, that Stephen would send an invitation to two people who lived across the hall and down three doors from him, and that the invitation would be so formal.

_"Mr. and Mrs. Marcus and Imogen Herondale invite you to the marriage of their son, Stephen William Herondale, to Amatis Graymark, on Monday, the tenth of June, in the Sanctuary of the London Institute, at three o'clock in the afternoon,"_ Robert had read aloud from atop his desk where he held the invitation hostage. _"Cocktails will begin at five in the afternoon in the grand ballroom, with dinner served at six and dancing to commence at eight in the evening."_ The invitation had many more things for Robert to find amusing. There were dinner selections for the five course meal. A map of London. A firm suggestion of formal attire.

Michael wasn't sure why Robert found the whole thing so funny. Stephen hadn't invited he and Robert to the wedding, it was Stephen's parents who did, who had invited pretty much everyone Stephen associated with back in London. The invitation was really just a formality. Michael knew when and where the wedding would be held. Being one of Stephen's few friends, he was the best man.

"You want me to come home with you?" Robert asked.

"It's my home as well as yours," Michael said, "I have family there and so do you."

Robert plucked a blade of grass and took to shredding it into fine green threads, occasionally looking up at Maryse. Josie tied a blue ribbon around the end of her hair and gave Michael a smile before blowing him a kiss. Tonight she was going out with Maryse and a few other girls for dinner to celebrate their upcoming weddings before finals exams began. The next morning, Saturday, she and Michael would leave for Wayland Manor.

"Well, if you put it that way, no, I won't be coming _home _with you," Robert said. "I don't want to see my family, and I could care less about Stephen shackling himself to Amatis Graymark for all of eternity. Go with Josie. You'll hardly miss me."

Michael sighed and leaned against Robert, wanting to rest his chin of his shoulder the way he did when they had been younger. It was a way they recharged together, by being close and reminding themselves of their bond. Then again, their bond hadn't been what it used to be for nearly a year now. Everything had changed then, when Robert got serious with Maryse, and Michael got serious with Josie, and they both got engaged. Suddenly, it felt as though Robert was pushing Michael further and further away instead of keeping him close.

For so many years, ever since they started training together at the age of eight, it had been Robert and Michael. Sure, Stephen hung around on the outskirts of their relationship, but it was Robert who Michael bonded with, Robert who Michael hurt with, and Robert who was someone Michael couldn't find words to explain. After they swore as parabatai, Robert moved into Michael's family home in London, and the following fall, they moved to Idris for schooling, living in close quarters, close as they always had been.

"But I want you with me as well," Michael mumbled. "I will miss you. The wedding will be no fun without you." Robert rolled his eyes. He was just being stubborn, the way he always was. "I'm going to the stupid Circle meeting with you. The least you can do is come to London, eat, drink, and have a great time on Marcus Herondale's tab." Robert sighed heavily.

"I'll bring my dancing shoes," he said, "but I refuse to waltz."

* * *

Immediately after the last class on Friday, it was as if half of the fourth year students disappeared. Michael and Robert were just returning to the dorm as Stephen walked out, a backpack slung over his shoulders, bound for a weekend spent at Herondale Manor. He nudged Michael with his elbow, giving him a nod, then stepped over to Amatis, closed his eyes, and passionately kissed her on lips within sight of a teacher. Michael had to look away, feeling as though he was intruding; Robert loudly told them to get a room.

Maryse and Josie left next and headed into Alicante. Robert and Michael had a quiet dinner together in the dining hall, barely talking, and the sun was just about to set when they left the front gates of the Academy and walked towards the center of town. Michael walked along in silence for a bit, listening to stones crack beneath his boots as Robert walked beside him, arms swinging, the back of his hand occasionally brushing against Michael's.

"Maryse and I are talking about moving into town after the wedding," Robert finally said. "We're going to look at townhouses tomorrow."

"You aren't moving to your manor?" Michael asked.

"It's hardly mine," Robert said. "My parents don't expect me to, anyway. Are you still, uh, planning to move in with your parents?"

Michael bit his lip and looked up from the road. This street was one of the main arteries into the city of Alicante. It was a dirt road lined on either side with a three foot high stone wall which was broken up by gates, all leading to small, one story homes, many of which had flower boxes filled with sweet smelling flowers hanging off the front windows. Alicante was many things; it was congested and filled with homes stacked on top of one another as one got closer to the city's center. It was noisy most of the time, with people coming and going, speaking dozens of different languages, yet there was no place in the world, besides London, where Michael felt at home.

Many of the shadowhunter families of Idris lived within the town limits of Alicante or in any of the smaller, surrounding towns; however, most of the older, affluent families had manor houses in the countryside which had stood for hundreds of years. The Herondale family owned a small manor house about an hour's ride from Alicante, with the Fairchild, Lightwood, Penhallow and Wayland Manors a short distance away. The manors were handed down through the families, generation to generation. Michael's family hadn't come from old money the way Robert's did, though they did had a manor house which Michael stood to inherit one day.

"They've offered us the top two floors," Michael said, "Cora only visits occasionally. It's not as is I am relying on my parents hand and foot." More than likely, it would be Michael's parents relying on him.

Amatis Graymark wasn't the only one with family secrets she wanted to keep buried. Michael's father was young as far as fathers went, a full ten years younger than Robert's parents. While other shadowhunters stopped fighting demons after a certain age, choosing to instead focus on studies or enforcing the Law, Michael's father continued to fight demons, putting himself in harm's way long after he was expected to.

Midway through Michael's first semester at the Academy, he had been spending an afternoon training with Robert and the rest of his male classmates when a letter, burning with a blue flame, burst from a sconce on the training room wall. Everyone in the class stopped what they were doing, yet Michael had stepped forward and reached a hand up, somehow knowing the letter was meant for him. It was nearly in his fingertips when a teacher pushed him aside and intercepted the letter before unfolding it.

The entire class had been watching. This sort of thing happened once or twice a year. Hunting demons was dangerous business, and more often than not, people were killed, though Michael had never considered that the next person to receive a letter might be him.

Michael had stepped forward and felt Robert's hand on his arm, his fingers light on the bones of his wrist. The blade Michael had been holding clattered to the floor.

"What does it say?" Michael asked, and when he got no reply, "What does it say!?"

"It's your father. There's been an accident," The teacher replied, folding the letter before putting a hand on Michael's back and firmly guiding him to the door. "He's been injured, severely. You are to report to the Silent City at once."

Michael thought of his mother and sister, alone in London, expecting his father to come home. He thought of the first few weeks at the Academy, of the friends he had made, the training he had received, and even the blonde haired, blue eyed girl from home who had come to the Academy with him, who he was starting to develop real, tangible feelings for. As Michael stepped outside the gymnasium and into the crisp autumn air, Robert still holding onto his wrist, he thought about how he would feel if suddenly, he had to give everything up to return home and take care of his family.

In the end, it wasn't terrible but it could have been better. Michael's father was injured but not killed, hurt just badly enough to be useless to the Clave. He and Michael's mother retired to their manor house, where Cora, Michael's sister, assisted with the running of the Wayland estate. That arrangement had lasted for three years, until Cora married and became pregnant, then moved to Sweden with her husband. Now, it was Michael's turn to return home and be the dutiful son.

"You aren't obligated to take it," Robert said.

"Where else am I going to go?" Michael replied.

"I… I don't…" Robert began. His voice cracked, prompting Michael to look over and see Robert take a shaky breath. "My parents. They're splitting up."

"What do you mean, splitting up?" Michael asked. Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood had been married as long as Michael's parents had been married, at least. They had five children, three homes, and more money than they knew what to do with.

"They're getting a divorce," Robert said. "I got a letter a few weeks ago, right before that big test in Law, telling me, flat out, that they were splitting up. My father is here, in Idris, now. He wants to attend my graduation. He wants to pay for a banquet for Maryse and I after our wedding. Says it is what he's supposed to do." Robert took a shaky breath and looked ahead as they approached town. Ahead of them, the demon towers rose up from the earth, the adamas taking on the orange of the setting sun and making them appear to be on fire.

Michael knew the night in question, because it had been one of the first nights Robert had snuck out of their room and had been gone for most of the night. He returned the next morning, smelling of alcohol and Maryse, and proceeded to nearly fail the test they were to take. Michael had been concerned, yet by that afternoon, Robert had bounced back from whatever had been bothering him and spent the afternoon sparring with, and besting, several of their classmates.

"How long since they decided to end things?" Michael asked.

"Since last fall, they've been discussing it. Since right after we came back to the Academy. Father didn't give any reason for it. They're waiting for me to finish school so they don't have to fight over who pays the tuition. Mother is going to stay in London, Father will stay in Idris, the money will be split down the middle, and I get to decide who I want to spend my time with, and I don't want to spend time with either of them." He ground his fist into his palm, his eyes dark and hurt.

"Maybe it's for the best?" Michael asked. He placed a hand on Robert's shoulder, though Robert shrugged it away. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You wouldn't understand. No one would understand, not even Maryse," Robert said. He folded his arms around himself, staring at the ground. "Your parents have always been happy. Always together. You know only love."

Michael knew there were different sorts of families. There were the families who drove one another crazy, but always ate dinner together. There were families who loved one another despite living in different parts of the world, and then there were families like Robert's, who were brash and loud, who loved and hated one another at the same time and somehow managed to stay together.

"You should have told me. I'm your parabatai," Michael said. "I would have told you if I had something, I don't know, significant, happening in my family. It's been a month and you never said anything."

"You wouldn't understand. You don't understand now that you know," Robert said. "My mother is in London, my father is in Idris, and you are moving home with your parents. You don't understand." Michael started to speak and stopped, because he knew Robert was right. No matter what, until death parted them, Michael's parents would stay together. "This is why I don't want to go to London with you. It's not my home anymore. It's just the place where my mother lives."

"I'm really sorry, Robbie," Michael said. It had been so long since they had been Robbie and Michael. Somehow, they had gone to school, met girls they would marry, and left their innocence behind. Then something like this happened, and Michael was reminded that they could both still be hurt.

"Who tears their family in half because it's suddenly not working anymore?" Robert asked. "Who just quits like that?" He pressed his lips together, shook his head, and was silent for the rest of the walk.

* * *

After the dinner hour was over, most people who lived and worked in Alicante headed to home, or to work, as the streets lit up with witch light and the last, fading rays of the sunset. Goody's was just off the main street that led to the Academy, set in a little plaza and marked with a red door and a window full of cakes frosted with fluffy white icing and flowers made of sugar. A bell rang softly overhead as they stepped inside, and a man behind the counter looked them both over before nodding to the back of the shop.

"Are you sure about this?" Michael asked. He slipped his hands in his jacket pockets and looked back at Robert.

"They have food. We'll just listen to what Valentine has to say and then we can go. We can go to the place with the blue door," Robert said, stepping close, pressing his fist to Michael's lower back. "I'll buy you a lap dance in honor of your upcoming wedding. Why should Josie and Maryse have all the fun?"

"I don't want that," Michael said. He walked towards the back of the shop, past small tables, some of which were littered with empty cups and saucers, to an area with couches, chairs and a small fireplace.

Several others were already sitting on the sofas, talking amongst themselves. A man was standing beside the fireplace arranging a blackboard. He was dressed in black pants and a white shirt which was open at the collar to show the glint of an amulet around his neck. His hair was a blond so light it was nearly white, and his eyes were almost black. Michael recognized him as Valentine Morgenstern, who had last come to the Academy in an attempt to recruit followers to The Circle of Raziel. Close by, a woman reclined on a sofa as she stared into the fire place, lost in thought. Wild curls of red hair tumbled over her shoulders and she wore a loose cotton dress, her feet bare, her hands folded over her stomach. Out of those assembled, she was the only woman. She was Jocelyn Fairchild, Valentine's wife.

"Valentine, may I present Robert Lightwood and Michael Wayland?" Michael saw a man standing by dressed in all black and wearing a pair of glasses. An amulet similar to Valentine's was around his neck. Michael recognized him as Hodge Starkweather, who had been a grade ahead of he and Robert in school. Another man, carrying a plate of treats, walked by and sat them on a table before returning to the counter. When he saw Michael, his eyes widened.

"Luke," Michael said. He had last seen Luke Graymark at the London Institute's Christmas party. He was Amatis's brother and would be in Stephen's wedding as well.

"Michael, hey," Luke said. He walked over and shook Michael's hand before looking back at Valentine questioning. Valentine nodded and turned his attention back to the blackboard. Only then did Michael feel Luke's hand tighten on his.

"Robert's fiancée asked us to come," Michael explained. Luke nodded. "I didn't expect you to be here."

"Whither thou goest," Luke said, rolling his eyes and tugging a pendent out from beneath his shirt. It was a cross with a hoop on top of it. Michael knew it was an ankh, the Egyptian symbol for eternal life. "It's Valentine's club, so I have to follow him everywhere." He laughed a little, quietly. "Welcome. Have a seat. Have some treats. Go back to school and tell Stephen to join you. I've been trying to get him to join the Circle for months." He shook Robert's hand before stepping away.

"How did you know our names?" Robert asked Hodge. Hodge smiled nervously and stole a glance at Valentine.

"Everyone knows you," Hodge said, his voice slightly awestruck. "Robert Lightwood. People still talk about your skill with a bow, and you haven't even graduated yet. And Michael Wayland… you got that perfect score on your language exam. You were in the newspaper for it."

"It was nothing," Michael said. He felt Robert's elbow against his side.

"We're in the presence of greatness," Valentine said, gliding over. He put a hand on both Michael and Robert's shoulders and gave them a smile. "And parabatai to boot." Valentine cast an eye over them both, as if he could see their bond, and smiled, satisfied.

"It was just a stroke of luck," Michael mumbled. The perfect score had happened last semester. Michael had always excelled in languages. Early on, he knew he loved words, and communicating with them. Sure, no one had ever received a perfect score on the exam, but it had just been a stroke of luck. He'd barely ever studied.

"How many languages are you fluent in?" Valentine asked.

"A few," Michael said.

"Tell him," Robert said.

"Nine," Michael said, rolling his eyes. "English, German, Latin, Arabic, Chinese, Russian, French, Finnish and Welsh."

"Not to mention one of the demon languages," Robert said. "He's been studying it in secret for years." Michael blushed.

"Say something in Finnish," Valentine said. "I want to see if I can understand it." Michael looked over to Jocelyn, locking eyes with her for an instant. Jocelyn looked away and sipped a cup of tea. Her face was pale and drawn looking, as if she were tired. She reminded Michael of his sister.

"Onneksi olkoon," Michael said, softly. _Congratulations. _

Valentine smiled and patted Michael on the cheek. "I'm going to like you," he said.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Please review? As a treat, I am also including with this chapter a teaser from the next chapter. We are all familiar with teasers, so it needs no explanation. This particular sentence is the second to last sentence of the chapter, which is finished.**

"There is no shame in admitting that you made a mistake."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thank you for checking out the third chapter of this story. I hope you are enjoying it, as I am enjoying writing it. I am up to the sixth chapter now, and I will update more if there is more demand. Please review if you want, (a little encouragement is always nice) otherwise, please keep enjoying!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Once the meeting was called to order, Michael discovered that it was a very informal meeting at best. He and Robert sat on a sofa beside Hodge and listened as various topics were discussed. Robert was very vocal, as usual, while Michael stared at a chocolate croissant on the plate in front of him for five minutes before seizing it and dipping it into his hot cocoa. He looked around the room at those assembled. Besides Jocelyn, Luke, and Hodge, Michael recognized the Pangborn brothers, one of who graduated the year before and one who would graduate along with Michael and Robert. There were others Michael never caught the name of who hardly participated in the conversations.

Out of all of them, Valentine was the oldest, at barely 22. Robert was right; they were hardly adults in the eyes of the Clave. Should Michael get a job at the Gard, working to create laws for the Shadowhunters, it would be another ten years before he would be taken seriously by the Consul and another twenty before applying to be Inquisitor didn't have him laughed out of the Accords Hall. Michael knew there were things that needed reformed within the Clave; it was just a matter of finding someone who would listen to his thoughts and concerns.

Valentine was that person. Michael watched as Valentine participated in a lively discussion with the Pangborns regarding a particular law. Michael saw how people who could be taken by Valentine. He was charismatic and charming, always prepared with an answer that only invited more conversation.

Michael glanced down at his empty cup of hot cocoa, then stood up and patted Robert on the head. He walked to the back door of the bakery, opened it, and stepped outside, into a tiny garden walled in on all four sides with bricks. Several trees cast their branches overhead, and in those branches were tiny, flickering candles. This was a place Josie would love. She and Michael could sit in the far back corner and share _pain au chocolats, _the chocolate croissants Michael was so fond of.

The bakery had been stifling inside. With no one coming or going, the front door never opened. Outside, the air was cool and crisp and carried with it the scent of rain. The group could have met outside, but the things they were discussing- dissatisfaction with the Clave and the laws the Clave enforced- could be considered treason if those words fell on the wrong ears.

But they were hardly adults. It wasn't as if any of the talk would change anything.

The door opened and Michael turned around, hoping to see that Robert had grown sick of the conversation and came out to join him, though it was Hodge that stepped outside and looked up at Michael, feigning surprise.

"Noisy in there, isn't it?" Hodge asked. He walked over to Michael and touched him on the arm, then pulled a hand rolled clove cigarette out of his pocket. He lit it and offered it to Michael, who shook his head. "You're just missing the birth control discussion."

"What's there to discuss?" Michael asked. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped backwards, away from the sweet smelling smoke of the cigarette, towards the back of the garden. "You either use it or you don't."

"Ah, but the angel doesn't want you to use it. The angel wants us to go forth and multiply. We all have a purpose on this earth, Michael, to screw our wives and make babies and keep the Nephilim race going," Hodge said. He inhaled on the cigarette before exhaling. "Valentine… he's all for pure bloodlines. The right people reproducing, to have the right sort of children. You understand."

"It's been discussed in school," Michael said. There was a debate, as always, over the prospect of intermarriage between shadowhunters and other species, even mundanes. Maxwell Trueblood's struggle to be with who he loved, who was not accepted by the Clave, was one case in a file of many. Most shadowhunters married other shadowhunters and made shadowhunter babies, however, there were statistics that stated that fewer and fewer babies were born every year, while the amount of people who died every year stayed the same, or increased.

A loud, boisterous laugh came from the bakery and Hodge shivered before stepping further into the garden, closer to Michael. Michael never considered himself tall, as he was a few inches shorter than Robert, yet Hodge stood a head below Michael. Hodge Starkweather was an odd bird; he had always been. He never excelled with weaponry, yet was known to be one of the best in academics. His dark hair was thinning at the age of 21, and despite training as a Shadowhunter, he was a late bloomer, his muscles nondescript when he should have had something to show for his efforts. How he had ever ended up working closely with Valentine was beyond Michael's knowledge.

"Do you have an idea what it is like to be with someone who sucks the life out of every conversation? Who makes it all about them? Who controls everything, and you are powerless to stop it?" Hodge asked.

"No, I don't know anything about that," Michael said.

That was a lie. Just this morning Robert was dictating who could sit with them at breakfast. Just this evening he had finally admitted that his parents were splitting up, allowing himself an entire month to suffer with his pain before revealing it to the one man who had sworn to love him and never judge him. Before, the relationship Michael had with Robert had always been give and take, an equal partnership. Now, it felt as if one of them wasn't holding up their end of the bargain.

"Of course you don't," Hodge said. He walked over to a bench and sat down, gesturing for Michael to follow. Michael waited a moment, then went over and sat beside him. "Valentine uses people, you know, for his own needs. He's been using me for years because I am better with books than he is. I don't mind it, you know. I just wish he would think of me every once in a while."

"I can understand that," Michael said. "Robert… he's always been… the dominant one. Not that I have ever minded…." Another burst of laughter came from the bakery and Michael looked over at the door. When he turned his head back, Hodge was there, close. He placed a hand on Michael's knee and kissed him on the lips.

For a moment Michael couldn't react. He felt Hodge's fingers dig into his leg. The other man exhaled, parting his lips, as one hand came up to cup Michael's jaw and deepen the kiss. Michael shoved Hodge hard on the shoulder and leaped to his feet, wiping furiously at his mouth.

"I just thought…" Hodge said quickly. "I know how parabatai are. They love one another, more than they love the person they have chosen as a spouse. I know they aren't supposed to do anything, but I thought…"

"You thought wrong!" Michael cried. "I would never love Robert the way I love Josie. What Robert and I have is completely different from-"

"I see how you look at him," Hodge said with a smirk. "I bet it is the same way you look at the other boys. Boys like Stephen Herondale? I bet you've had your eye on him for years." Michael felt a sickness in the pit of his stomach. Hodge stood up and came closer, the clove cigarette still burning between his fingers. He backed Michael against the wall of the garden, watching him with a predatory gaze. "There's no shame in having feelings for a man."

"I don't!" Michael exclaimed. "Not for you. Not like that. Never for you. Leave me alone." Hodge stepped away, and Michael free of him, stepped towards the back door of the bakery just as the door opened and Robert walked out. Michael looked up at Robert, feeling his breath catch in his throat.

"I was worried," Robert said. "You disappeared." He looked at Michel, then beyond him, to Hodge, who was adjusting his glasses and taking stock of his appearance. "Come back inside… is everything alright out here?"

"I'm fine," Michael said, "just fine." He stepped past Robert, taking a breath and wiping his hand across his mouth once more, heading towards the door. It wasn't as if Robert would ever understand.

* * *

When they returned to the bakery, the meeting was just wrapping up. Jocelyn remained in her chair, still appearing to be tired. She gave Michael a smile which Michael returned, meeting her eyes and holding the gaze for a beat too long. The moment he looked away, he realized what he had done.

"You know each other?" Valentine asked. He stepped out from behind a counter and looked between Jocelyn and Michael with a little smile on his face. Michael felt his insides twist, inexplicably.

"It's not that," Michael said. "I thought…" He couldn't explain it. He felt his entire being gravitating towards Jocelyn, as if she had a calming influence over him.

"The market," Jocelyn said easily, looking Michael in the eye. "Right before the winter solstice. We were both at a stand that sold blankets, and Michael had his eye on the last wool blanket in the stand, only, I saw it first. I thought I knew him from somewhere. It was there at the market. He let me have the blanket." Jocelyn looked over at Valentine and smiled sweetly. "You remember how cold last winter was, don't you? We loved that blanket."

"I'm nothing if not a gentleman," Michael said, matching her easy tone. "I made do with my flannel blanket." Jocelyn sighed happily.

"And who says chivalry is dead?" Valentine asked, patting Michael on the back. "Stay after? I want to talk to you and your parabatai." Michael glanced at his watch, seeing that they had another hour before curfew. He felt Robert's hand on his arm, pulling him back to the front of the bakery. They sat in a booth side by side, Robert pressing to Michael's shoulder, recharging.

"What wool blanket? When did you go to the market without me?" Robert mumbled. Michael shrugged. "You know, you shouldn't be making eyes at Valentine's wife."

"I wasn't making eyes at her," Michael said, a bit harsher than intended.

"What happened to you out there?" Robert asked. Hodge walked past the table, carrying a few plates, and Michael put his head on Robert's shoulder, feeling his face flush with heat.

"Nothing," Michael replied. "I think I ate too much chocolate and I want to go home." Robert sighed and pushed Michael away when Valentine walked over and sat in the booth across from them. Luke sat down beside him and gave Michael a nervous smile.

"I am so happy you joined us," Valentine said. "I'll keep this brief, I am sure you have other things to do tonight."

"Not really," Michael said.

"Michael wants to get back to school. He's going home in the morning," Robert explained. "Me, I just need to get back before curfew. There are rules to follow, you know, for a few more weeks, anyway."

"Rules," Valentine said with a chuckle. "You're both such good boys." He looked up when Jocelyn walked by and glanced back at Michael. "I want to invite you to both to join the Circle. I think you will be very happy working with us to create what we hope to be a brighter, better future for all shadowhunters."

"I'm interested," Robert said. He leaned closer to Valentine. "I had my reservations initially, but I think we want the same thing. I'll join the Circle."

"And your parabatai?" Valentine asked. "Whither thou goest…" Luke folded his hands and looked into Michael's eyes, steadily. Luke was the most honorable person Michael knew. If he was in this group, it couldn't be that bad, right? Beside him, Robert placed a hand on Michael's thigh and rubbed, gently.

"Sure," Michael said. "I'll join, just as long as I don't have to drink the blood of a virgin or pledge my allegiance to a different angel."

Valentine shook his head and laughed, causing Luke to smile and do the same. Robert looked over at Michael, somewhat horrified at his statement, and laughed as well, nervously.

"We only ask that you want to help us make a change," Valentine said. "There are other things, nothing you need to be concerned with right now. If this is settled, I will schedule your initiations."

"Just as long as they don't involve virgin sacrifice," Robert said, "Michael here might have a problem with that." He laughed again.

"Why do we have initiations, and why do we have to do them separately?" Michael asked. "Why are you separating us?"

"I want to see what you're made of. You're strong enough on your own, aren't you?" Valentine asked. Robert nodded. "Then you have nothing to worry about."

* * *

When they left the bakery, Robert cast a gaze down the street, into the brighter parts of Alicante, filled with nightlife. Michael heard the quiet thump of music and people having a good time. Somewhere down there, Maryse and Josie and their friends were together, having a good time.

"Do you want to have a drink? I'll buy," Robert said. "Just one, and then I promise, we will go home."

"I don't really feel great…" Michael began. He looked down the street at the buildings glowing with witch light. He had been to taverns and clubs before, but drinking didn't hold the same attraction for him that it held for Robert, who had been finding ways to consume alcohol as soon as he was old enough to want to. Michael had drunk with Robert and some other friends a few times, but he had only ever gotten drunk once, in the dorm room, on a horrid mix of liquor someone had snuck into school. The morning after, Michael woke up in Robert's bed and vomited into a water pitcher before skipping his first two classes, as well as an entire afternoon's worth of training. "Go."

Michael began to walk in the opposite direction of the bright lights, back in the direction they came from. He hoped that maybe Josie was back from dinner now, that maybe she would want to sit in the common room with him for a little while before they had to separate from the night. Right now, Michael only wanted that. He hated himself for looking forward to tomorrow, when he would have an entire day without Robert, who was starting to feel like someone Michael had to be responsible for, as opposed to his equal. More than once, Michael had pulled Robert out of a bar in order to get back before light's out, and he wasn't looking forward to doing that tonight.

"No, I'll come home," Robert said, catching up with Michael. "You seem, I don't know, needy tonight." Michael squared his jaw and didn't dignify that with an answer. Was he being needy? He couldn't tell. For so long he had played the good to Robert's bad, the white to his black, that he wasn't sure when he was falling back into his usual role as the cautious one, and when he was worrying for nothing.

"I don't feel good," Michael said.

"You feel just fine," Robert said. "Listen. I know you don't like the Circle, but they have good ideas. There is nothing wrong with discussing things, and wanting to bring about reform. We'll just check it out, and if things start to feel wrong, we will stop, alright?" He rubbed a hand on Michael's arm, keeping close.

"It's not that. I am aware of right and wrong and what to do when something feels wrong to me," Michael said. "It's not the Circle. They have good ideas, I guess. We can join, sure."

"Well, what is your problem them, if not the Circle?" Robert asked. "You aren't you right now. Where's my Michael? Where did my Michael go? Michael. Talk to me." He pressed closer to Michael, knowing how to turn on the charm whenever things looked dark.

"Hodge kissed me," Michael said. "It wasn't anything casual. It was on the lips. He didn't hurt me, it just felt wrong, and I didn't like it." Robert's eyes widened.

"Were you asking for it?" He asked. "Is that something you like, Michael? Kissing men? Because I thought you loved Josie."

"No!" Michael exclaimed. "I mean, yes, I love her, and no, I wasn't asking for it. He did it because… he thought you and I were like that. That we loved each other so much that we did forbidden things together." Robert smiled and pecked Michael on the cheek, slipping a hand around his waist.

"Like this?" Robert asked. "Look at us, doing forbidden things. I knew it was a slippery slope once I started letting you wear my shirts. It will be the pants next, I just know it." He tugged on Michael's collar, popping a button open, letting in the cool night air.

"You know what I am saying," Michael said, appreciating the sentiment. "It didn't feel right. It felt like something else. Something…" Michael shook his head. It wasn't that kissing another man was upsetting Michael, who knew that there were men in the Clave who loved other men in the same way that there were men who loved women. Hodge's kiss had been different from that, and Michael couldn't put his finger on exactly _how_.

"Hodge Starkweather is an idiot," Robert said. "Don't fault him for that. You know I heard he's never had a girlfriend. He's devoted himself to his studies, and to Valentine, so it seems. Maybe he should be a lesson to you. You and Josie with the whole hands off thing… you'll end up like Hodge, kissing taken boys in the garden of a bakery beneath the candlelight."

"I will never end up like Hodge," Michael said. "Also. I am not a virgin, and if you tease me about it one more time, I swear on the Angel, Robert, I'll…." Michael lifted a hand and looked over at Robert.

"I know, I know," Robert said. He took Michael's hand and lowered it. "I'll stop treating you like a seventeen year old, being that you only have a few more days before you turn 18. I'll treat you like a big kid now."

"Thank you," Michael said.

They walked along like that for a little while, until hoof beats approached. Robert nudged Michael away, putting distance between them, before waving at a rider heading into the center of Alicante.

"I think Maryse and I are going to start trying for a baby right away," Robert mused. "It's sort of expected, you know. It's that or doing something else, but I would rather plan on having a child over Maryse getting pregnant when I least expect it."

"Yeah, I see that," Michael said, stealing a glance at Robert. Robert had always been ambivalent towards children, neither loving them nor being annoyed by their presence. He hadn't ever gotten along with his little brother, although the entire Lightwood family occasionally didn't get along. "You don't have to have a child, you know. There are ways to prevent…"

"I know," Robert said.

Smack in between classes on weaponry and history, languages and the arts, for all fourth year Shadowhunters, there was a two week course that made the most brave and strong willed Shadowhunter blush and stammer and never once look up from his or her text book. This was the class that began with the statistics that Hodge had mentioned earlier and ended with specific instructions. The Nephilim were a dying breed. Unless the Mortal Cup was used to make new Shadowhunters, the entire race might become extinct. The best way to combat this problem was to make new Shadowhunters the old fashioned way. The class taught the fourth years why they should reproduce, and how, before telling them to go forth and multiply. It was one of their sacred duties, for the sake of the Nephilim race.

This was all Robert had been raised with knowing. He had grown up with four other siblings, the oldest being just five years older than him and the youngest of the family, Robert's brother Nicholas, being just eleven months younger than him. Robert had seen his brothers and sisters marry and have children, and he was expected to follow suit.

Michael, by contrast, had grown up with only one sibling, his sister. Not long after Michael met Robert, and Robert's siblings, he had asked his mother why he didn't have a little brother. His mother had replied that sometimes the Angel blessed with families with lots of children, and sometimes the Angel only blessed a family with two children.

When Michael turned 13, however, he learned the truth from his father, who had wanted his son to know that some of the Clave's laws were open to interpretation. The matter of birth control fell to the man, who could employ various methods of preventing pregnancy, be it a mundane method, or by begging a Silent Brother to administer a potion and look the other way. According to Michael father, he and Michael's mother could only afford two children, and they both thought it was cruel to burden the family with any extra mouths to feed.

It had been Maxwell Trueblood who had snuck into Michael and Robert's room after the class ended and delivered to Robert and Michael a means to hold off fatherhood as long as possible. Perhaps it had been Maxwell's desire not to see his sister pregnant while still in school, but for all of the times that Robert and Maryse met in closets and one another's rooms, they never once had a pregnancy scare.

"I just don't like that," Robert said. "It doesn't feel right. Besides, if we have one or two children right away, we won't have to worry about having any more."

"How does Maryse feel about this?" Michael asked. "Have you even talked about it? Have you even told her about your parents splitting up?"

"Sure, we plan to have children. She wants a couple," Robert said with a shrug. "No, I didn't tell her. We're getting married. Telling her my parents are getting divorced just feels wrong. What if it gives her cold feet?"

"You're going to marry her," Michael said. "She's going to be your wife in a few weeks. She should be able to support you… you aren't getting cold feet, are you? You are going through with the wedding, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," Robert scoffed. "I'll tell her soon. I promise. I just don't want to scare her off."

"She's not going to scare off," Michael said as they approached the gates of the Academy and stepped inside. "She loves you, and…"

"Maryse and I aren't like you and Josie," Robert said. "We aren't certain about ourselves together the way you and Josie are." He crossed the courtyard with Michael following behind. "Everything will be better once we get married, I just know it."

"You can always evoke the six month rule, if it doesn't work out," Michael said. "There is no shame in admitting that you made a mistake."

"I don't make mistakes," Robert said. "Marrying Maryse is not a mistake."

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Let me know if you have any thoughts or opinions on this. This is a massive creative venture on my part, and I always appreciate a little feedback.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Please Enjoy**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

The first sounds Michael heard the next morning were the birds chirping outside and Robert's quiet exhales as he lay on the floor, doing sit ups with his feet beneath a trunk. Michael rolled over and pulled a blanket up to his chin, opening his eyes to see sweat glistening on Robert's back as he softly counted.

The night before had been typical. Robert and Michael had returned to school to find most of their classmates out for the evening. Robert had looked around the dorm room and proclaimed himself bored and went to the common room to throw darts. Michael hadn't felt like going down there without Josie, so he had crawled into bed with a book and had read until Robert returned. They had both been asleep by just after midnight.

With one final gasp, Robert sprawled on the floor, his arms stretched out to either side. Breathless, he climbed to his feet and flung himself down on top of Michael, pressing him down into the thin mattress on the bed.

"No," Michael mumbled, batting at him. "Still asleep, not yet."

"Go back to sleep," Robert said, mussing Michael's hair with a sweaty hand. "I'm going to take a shower and I have a surprise for you."

"I want bacon and eggs, or nothing at all," Michael said. Robert laughed softly, climbed off the bed, and grabbed his towel and a stack of clothes before leaving the room.

It was Saturday, which meant time for studying or optional training, which Michael was going to skip. Josie had convinced him to visit his parents for the day, and Michael hoped to be back before dinner, though he and Josie technically didn't have to be back on campus until Monday morning. They could do what Robert and Maryse had done before, which involved renting a room at an inn in town, and spend the night together.

The thought of doing such a thing felt both dangerous and welcoming. Michael and Josie had only spent the night together a few times before, and every time, it wasn't as if they had needed to be alone in a room. Josie was Michael's first serious girlfriend, who had quickly become his fiancée. He had dated one girl before her, Sarah, who lived in London, and had lost his virginity at the age of 13 to Abigail Herondale, Stephen's older sister, which was something Stephen might be none too pleased about if he knew.

Abigail had been very pretty, all blonde hair and blue eyes, a little snobby, a little flirty, and a bit rebellious. The first time with her had been terrifying and over way to fast, the second time had been better, yet Michael knew they didn't have a future together. The ending of their friends with benefits relationship had been swift and painless, as Abigail had her eyes on a Carstairs who came from money and Michael had started to view a certain Josephine Lancaster as more than just a girl who could hold her own in training with him.

From the moment he began seriously courting her, Michael knew that Josie was different from anyone he had been with before. There had been times before when the kisses were more passionate than they usually were and Michael thought about taking Josie to bed. They were going to be married, and no one would ever fault him for giving into temptation, yet time and time again, for how much they wanted to make love to one another, one of them always stopped it, being the voice of reason, wanting their first time together to be, well, different.

When Michael floated back to conscious again, he was aware of the sound of the door closing and locking. He felt Robert climb onto the bed, straddle his waist, and rest his hands on his chest, rubbing gently.

"Bacon and eggs…." Michael mumbled. He grabbed Robert's wrists and felt something cool and metal against his palm. Michael's eyes flew open as he looked into two soft, brown eyes that didn't belong to Robert at all. "Josie!"

"Shhh!" Josie exclaimed. She held a finger to her lips and covered Michael's mouth her other hand. Michael whimpered and looked her over, swearing to himself that he hadn't spent nights fantasizing about this very thing happening to him. She was dressed in a white button down shirt that no doubt belonged to Robert. Her hair was pulled up beneath a hat and she wore a pair of baggy pants to hide her figure. "Quiet." She said it with a smirk.

Josie sat up and pulled the hat off, whipping it across the room so that it landed on Robert's bed. Her hair fell free, smelling of sweet perfume. With her right hand still covering Michael's mouth, her left hand began to slowly unbutton the shirt, button by button, to reveal a lacy red bra. She dropped the shirt to the floor next and leaned over Michael, pressing her hips to his. "Robert and Maryse are distracting the dorm master. You have ten minutes. Do anything you like."

"Josie," Michael said, moaning softly. "Josie, why would you do this?" He lifted his hand and placed it on her shoulder, then slid it down to her breast, touching the soft skin there gently. His other hand moved down her side and tugged on her pants, pulling them down a little to reveal a rune drawn on the outside of her hip. Josie was so very different from Maryse. Whereas Maryse was tall, rail thin, and severe, Josie was muscular. She had hips and curves and breasts that filled up Michael's whole hand.

Michael whimpered softly as Josie kissed him on the lips. She ran her hands across his chest, her palms smooth against his skin, and kissed along his jaw. One of her hands moved lower, beneath the covers on the bed, and slipped into the waistband of his boxer shorts. He felt himself stiffen at her touch, and his mind went blank, only for a second. "Josie," Michael mumbled. "Josie!"

"Quiet!" Josie exclaimed. She sat up and looked down at Michael, folding her arms across her chest. The action did little to hide her cleavage, which Michael tried to look away from. He fidgeted and tried not to blush.

"We agreed to wait," Michael said. "I understand that Robert wants me to be happy and feel good…" And by the Angel, not end up like Hodge… "Why are you doing this?"

"Robert wanted to do something nice for us. He said you seemed down last night and he thought you could use a preview of the wedding night," Josie said. Michael closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He knew there was an ulterior motive to this; Robert wanted Michael to feel the same way he did about the girl he was going to marry, so he enabled Michael to break the rules and dangled temptation in front of him.

"This isn't helping anything!" Michael exclaimed. "We agreed to wait!"

"We agreed to wait," Josie said, sounding near tears. She climbed off of Michael and reached down to grab the white shirt she had worn into the room. Not looking at him, she pulled it on and began to button it.

"This isn't you," Michael said. "Dressing up in Robert's clothes to sneak into my room… this isn't you at all."

"It was Robert and Maryse. They thought you would like it," Josie said.

"I never said I didn't," Michael said, sitting up to kiss her cheek. He climbed out of bed and went to close the curtains over the window before he pulled on a pair of pajama pants and took a few breathes, trying to forget her breasts, in that bra, with her in his bed. When he was finally settled he returned to Josie, kneeling before her on the floor. "Listen, I love you so much, and I want you so, so bad. You have no idea how badly I want to be with you, but we agreed to wait, because we didn't want to be tempted at school, and because once I am with you like that, I don't want to not be with you. I don't want to sleep across the courtyard from you after we've made love. I want to be in your bed, close to you. I want to wait until we can do that together. This? You sneaking into my room to give me ten minutes of teasing? It doesn't make me want you any more than I already do."

"I understand," Josie said. She ran a hand through Michael's hair and kissed his forehead. "I love you, and I can't wait to be with you." She tugged on his hair and grinned, kissing his lips when he inclined his head to her. "I hope we never get out of bed."

"But we'll have to eat some time," Michael said, wrapping his arms around her waist and closing his eyes.

A few minutes later the door burst open and Robert walked in, covering his eyes with one hand.

"Your plan didn't work," Josie said. Michael lifted his head and smiled serenely.

"Do you really think you could corrupt me that easily?" He asked.

"I thought I might try!" Robert exclaimed.

* * *

After breakfast spent with Robert and Maryse, Michael and Josie met at the school stables, where they saddled their horses and left the front gates of the school, bound for Wayland Manor in the Idris countryside. Beside Michael on her gray mare, Josie was dressed in tan riding pants that clung to her legs and knee high riding boots. She wore a blue shirt that showed her arms, and a wide hat that shaded her shoulders from the sun. Her hair was in a bun but strands still came free from it, framing her face.

They stopped at midmorning beside a lake, giving the horses, and themselves, a chance to rest beneath the shade of a willow tree. This time, Michael leaned against the tree and Josie lay with her head in his lap, and for a while they didn't speak, having spent much of the ride enjoying the quiet. Michael lifted a hand and traced his fingers over his parabatai rune on the upper part of his left shoulder, feeling his skin, sun burnt and hot to the touch.

"I could never be bound to someone so intimately," Josie said suddenly. "How do you put up with him? He's so different from you. I don't see how you tolerate it."

"Nor do I," Michael said, turning his eyes to her. Josie sat beside him, her cheeks bright red in the still, humid air. "I love him, unconditionally. I could ever not love him. I suppose that is it. He'll always be Robert, and he'll always be right beside me." Josie nodded. She had never gotten jealous of Robert the way Robert had gotten jealous of her; she had always known, somehow, that there was more than one person in this life who Michael would love unconditionally.

"You would never cheat on me, would you?" Josie asked softly.

"Never," Michael said. Josie was the only girl he would ever need to be with, and the thought of being with someone else, or cheating on her, felt wrong. "Why would you ask?"Josie sighed and sat up, leaning close to Michael. For a moment, Josie looked down at her wrist, at the turquoise bracelet there.

"There are rumors in the girl's dorm that… Robert's been with another girl. A third year," Josie said. "Maryse knows, and of course she's not going to say anything. She's going to be his wife, but still, the rumors persist. The other night… did Robert stay with you the whole night? Or did he go into town the way he told Maryse he had?"

"He went out," Michael said. "He came back before dawn, smelling like he'd been drinking. He said he had gone out. Why would he lie to me? He's supposed to be honest with me." Michael felt something twist in his chest and he bit his lip. "Why would he cheat on Maryse? He's going to marry her. And why wouldn't he tell me if he had?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Josie said, taking Michael's hand. Michael squeezed her hand tightly before letting it go. To be unfaithful to Josie was akin to betraying her, and that was unforgivable. "Robert admires you for your honesty and conviction. I doubt he wants to look bad in your eyes."

"He doesn't," Michael said. "He would do anything to look favorable in my eyes. Even lie to me." Michael took a few breathes, feeling something twist, painfully, in his heart.

"I shouldn't have told you," Josie said.

"Tell me everything," Michael said. "Is Maryse alright?"

"She's upset, but she won't confront him about it. She's just going through with the wedding and hoping that once they graduate, things will be better," Josie said. "Don't tell anyone? Please?"

"Never," Michael said. He touched her face and kissed her lips, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "You know, I would never, ever, do that to you, and if something were to ever happen, I would tell you. I'll tell you everything, and never keep anything from you, I promise."

"Thank you," Josie said, giving him a gentle smile.

"I did want you this morning," Michael said, "just not in my dorm room?" Josie giggled.

"Do you have objections to beneath weeping willow trees?" Josie asked. She shoved his shoulder hard, pressing him down into the soft grass. Michael put his arms around her, pulling her close.

"I assure you, once we are married, I won't have any objections to making love to you, anywhere," Michael said. "I promise."

* * *

Soon after they began riding again, a sprawling white house came into view, set in a valley and built with two castle turrets at either end. An impressive red barn stood behind the house, and the surrounding pastures were dotted with horses and several foals frolicking in the grass. This was Herondale Manor, the home Stephen would be inheriting.

After another mile Lightwood Manor came into view. It was a formidable brick home with two stories set into a thick grove of trees. On the other side of the grove of trees stood Fairchild Manor, a modest home filled with windows, which overlooked a small lake that the base of a hill that gradually sloped upwards before the earth sloped back downward, towards a white house that rose up from the ground, four stories tall, with a slate roof. This was Wayland Manor. For Michael and Josie, this would be home.

Despite being happy to be home, Michael and Josie took the time to settle their horses in the stable before going to the front door of the house and knocking. A woman opened the door and gave Michael a nod before leading him inside and back to a room with the walls and ceiling made entirely of glass. Plants of all kinds grew on shelves and tables around the room, and in the middle of it was a table with two chairs. A man and a woman were enjoying brunch, though the woman shrieked and leapt from her seat when Michael walked in.

"You should have told us you were coming!" She cried, running over. She wore a flowing silk dress and trailed a scarf behind her. Her eyes were bright blue, her hair a curly blonde, and she smelled of honeysuckles and sugar. Her name was Dacia, and she was a free spirit compared to Michael's grounded father, Jonathan, who went by Jon.

"Mama," Michael said, accepting her kiss and putting his arms around her.

"We wanted to surprise you," Josie said, grinning as Dacia hugged her as well. "Surprise!"

"Come, have breakfast with us," Dacia said, taking Michael by the hand. She pulled him over to the table with Josie in their wake. Michael's eyes fell on his father at the far end of the table, who gave them a smile before moving to stand up.

"Please don't," Michael said quickly. "I'll come to you." He went to his father and leaned down to give him a hug, ignoring the crutches beside the table and the wheelchair his Jon sat in. "There's no need."

"I wanted to greet my boy," Jon said, mussing Michael's hair. "Would it kill you to shave? You look dirty."He smiled and patted Michael on the cheek.

"It's Saturday," Michael said.

"And you've already found a lovely girl to marry. Josephine," Jon said. He gave Josie a smile.

Somehow, two chairs appeared, and Michael and Josie sat in them as the housekeeper brought two plates of food and two plates of sweet tea over to them.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly eat," Michael said.

"Eat!" Dacia exclaimed. "I don't think you're eating enough. You felt like a bag of bones."

"I eat," Michael said, picking up his tea to have a sip.

"You aren't having a baby, are you?" Dacia asked. Michael nearly choked on his tea. "Is that what this visit is about? I know how hard the last few weeks before the wedding can be. Temptation at every turn."

"Mama," Michael said, cheeks aflame.

"You're practically home free, Josephine. You can fit into that dress at six weeks pregnant. Believe me," Dacia said. Josie sipped her tea and smiled sweetly.

"No baby yet," she said. "Michael and I are waiting for our wedding night." They hadn't decided exactly when to start their family.

"I've heard that before," Jon mumbled, causing Josie to laugh out loud before covering her mouth.

"Papa!" Michael exclaimed.

* * *

After breakfast, Michael and Josie were encouraged to go upstairs to freshen up after their trip. They left Dacia and Jon downstairs and climbed up a tall, marble staircase to the second floor, passing by paintings of family members and angels. Michael could see how Wayland Manor could be viewed as excessive. The walls hung with tapestries and art, and everywhere one looked there were huge windows that looked out over rolling hills. It was a lovely place to call home. Michael and Josie had been promised the top two floors of the home for a wedding gift, giving them plenty of rooms to live in, and more than enough room for a family of their own.

"We can stay in town if you like," Michael said as soon as they were out of earshot of his parents. "We can even go back to London. I know you want to be close with your parents and… I'm so sorry my mother asked if you were pregnant." Josie laughed, looking over.

"Michael. I love the house, I love you, and we will have a baby soon enough. She's just excited," Josie said.

"A baby soon enough?" Michael asked.

"We'll see what happens," Josie said. She took his hand and pulled him down the hallway. "We can take as long as you want. Having a baby is something I want for us. We've been together for a while now. You'll make an amazing father."

"You'll be a better mother," Michael said, slipping his arm around Josie's waist.

Upstairs, the house was quiet, the hallway bright from the sunlight streaming in. Josie and Michael were to occupy a suite of rooms at the far end of the manor house. Upon finding a door to the room, Michael opened it and walked inside to find that his parents had been renovating the rooms. Gone were the velvet curtains and heavy tapestries which used to hang in the suite. In their place were gauzy curtains hung over glass doors and light paint on the walls that made the room feel bigger.

Two over sized chairs sat on either side of a fireplace, and in the middle of the room was a large bed covered with a canopy. There were two rooms that went in opposite directions off the main room, one of which could serve as a nursery. Upon moving into this house, Michael and Josie could live out their days here, raising their family and never having to leave.

"It's perfect," Josie said. She crossed the room and looked out of a window. "I want stay here. I want this to be our home." Michael walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek.

"Anywhere you are is my home as well," He said. "Welcome home."

* * *

It was Sunday afternoon before Michael and Josie returned to the Academy, sunburned and full of delicious food. A rainstorm had blown in the night before, making it impossible to leave, so they had spent the night together in the room they would share after the wedding. They hadn't bothered to tempt one another, instead contenting themselves with lying close together until the morning light.

The ride back to Alicante had seemed longer than the previous day's ride, and the last half of the ride was spent in a cold, driving rain, that soaked Michael and Josie head to toe. Upon arriving back at the Academy, they had settled their horses before separating to each get hot showers. Michael could tell that something and changed between them, because this time when they separated, he missed her as soon as she turned the corner to head back to the girl's dorm.

Upon returning to the dorm room, Michael found that the air inside the room felt stale, and both beds were still made. Robert and Maryse had probably spent the night together at an Inn in town, unless Robert had snuck off to be with the girl he was suspected of being with. Honestly, Michael wasn't sure what he wanted to believe, and for only the second time in a few days, he hated himself for thinking the worst about Robert.

With Robert absent, Michael grabbed a light blanket and a journal before he went to the common room. On a Sunday afternoon, the room was nearly empty, with only a few students playing games. Josie was curled up on a tattered sofa in the corner beside a window, and Michael joined her, tossing the blanket over them both. When Josie dozed off, her head on Michael's shoulder, Michael wrote in his journal about the weekend.

It was nearly dinner time when Robert and Maryse stepped into the common room. Maryse's hair was pulled back and her clothes looked slept in, she wore no makeup. Robert's jacket was rumpled and he was unshaven, and they were both damp, as if they had just come back from somewhere. Together they crossed the room and dropped onto a sofa across from Josie and Michael's. Michael noticed that they had taken to wearing their Lightwood rings on their left ring fingers, not that it meant anything.

"You look like hell, the both of you," Michael said. "What happened to you?" Maryse looked at the floor. For someone so confident, she seemed to have little to say.

"It should be fitting that you hear our news before anyone else," Robert said. He pulled the collar of his shirt down and grinned, bearing a rune that Michael recognized from diligent practice. "We got married!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who clicks on this story and reads the chapters. I appreciate it. Enjoy this chapter! I also refer you to Chapter 1 where my lengthy disclaimer says that I own none of these characters, and also remind you that this is a work of fiction in which I will use creative licence. **

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Right after Robert's revelation, it was time for dinner. Throughout the meal, Michael was silent, though Josie made up for it by asking for details, which Maryse was happy to provide.

"We just thought, why not get it over with? Then we can just move after graduation and start a family, if we want," Maryse said. "I wasn't having a big silly wedding anyway, and Robert said his parents didn't want to travel for the wedding…"

"His father wouldn't have to go far," Michael said, cutting a pork chop on his plate. He felt Robert kick him in the shin and he nearly kicked back.

"We're moving there, to my father's- to the manor. After we graduate," Robert said. "I wanted to live close to you, Michael. That's half the reason I did this. For us." Michael nodded and chewed his pork chop, feeling it stick in his throat. If that was what Robert wanted to believe, that was fine. Michael knew the truth. Deep down, Robert was still scared of the future, and had married Maryse because she held the promise of a future with him where she might not hurt him the way his parents had.

"It's over and done with," Maryse said. "Nothing else to worry about."

* * *

After dinner, Robert and Maryse agreed to meet up in the common room. Michael squeezed Josie's hand before parting ways with her, heading back to the dorm room, trying to focus his thoughts on the last two weeks of school, and the many tests he would no doubt take between now and graduation. He tried not to think about the twinge of pain he had felt in his heart the day before. He had known, instinctually, that something had changed with his bond to Robert, but had been unsure of what. It might have been easier to feel that had he been standing beside Robert when it happened, rather than sitting in a field, far away from where Robert was impulsively altering their bond forever.

"Michael." Michael felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Robert catching up to him. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted to be there."

"What did you do?" Michael whispered. He kept walking to the dorm room, pulled open the door, and went inside, Robert hot on his heels. When he slammed the door shut he shoved Robert against it, putting an arm to his throat. Michael tugged hard on Robert's shirt, wanting it off, wanting to see the evidence again, for himself. "What did you do!?" Robert's shirt parted and Michael stepped away, covering his face with his hands. Robert unbuttoned his shirt, button by button, and dropped it to the floor.

"I got married," Robert said. He lifted a hand and ran it across the rune etched over his heart before sliding his hand to his bicep, to the rune placed there as well. Both runes were black, darker than the rest of the runes Michael had drawn himself. Somehow this made the betrayal hurt more. Somehow, Maryse's rune would be more permanent that any of Michael's had ever been.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Michael asked. "I wanted to be there. I would have supported you, you know that."

"I wanted you there," Robert said, coming closer. He put his hands on Michael's shoulders before wrapping his arms around him. Robert was warm in the stillness of the room, solid and familiar and all at once someone Michael didn't know anymore. "I didn't want anyone else there. I've been thinking about marrying Maryse ever since I got the letter from my father. It felt wrong for my parents to watch us get married when they couldn't even stay married, so after you left yesterday, Maryse and I went to the Silent City and got it over with. It's done."

"You should have told me you were going!" Michael exclaimed.

"You would have talked me out of it," Robert said. "You would have convinced me to get married in the Accords Hall, the same way my parents did, and-"

"Would I have succeeded? Was that what you were afraid of?" Michael asked. Robert sighed, exasperated. "I would have tried to understand. You can't just keep everything a secret from me. That is not how we work. You tell me things."

"I will," Robert said. "Maryse… she's late." He pulled away from Michael and smiled, biting his lip. "We might have a baby."

Michael took a breath to keep the next thought in his mind from passing his lips, but he couldn't stop it, not when he had been hurt this badly. "And when you find out she is pregnant, are you going to cheat on her?" Michael asked.

Robert's eyes widened. "Michael."

"Josie said there are rumors about you and some third year. Is it true?" Michael asked. Robert was silent. "Answer me. At the very least, you can tell me this."

"It was one time," Robert said, desperately. "I'm married now. It won't happen again. I love Maryse, and if you love us both, you won't tell anyone about the third year. Please, Michael."

"Anything for you," Michael said, his throat sore and painful. "You can have a wonderful marriage. You can have everything your parents never had. Please, Robert, don't throw away your happiness just because you think you should."

* * *

The next two weeks were filled with studying and exams, packing and preparations. Maryse wasn't pregnant, though that news did little to push her and Robert apart. They spent nearly every waking moment together, developing a sort of wary admiration among their fellow classmates as being the first students in decades to get married while still in school. Michael had barely any time to acknowledge them.

Then suddenly Michael was picking up his dress gear from the cleaners in town and graduating second in his class behind Stephen Herondale. Immediately following graduation there was a gala in the Accords Hall of Alicante, with members of the Clave from all over the world in attendance. The gala served two purposes, to formally welcome the new graduates into the Clave, and to allow the new graduates a chance to meet and speak with Institute representatives who came to the school with gifts and job offers. The evening was a whirlwind of color and good food, of faces and names all too easily forgotten.

Michael had just found a moment to sip some punch and beside a tall adamas pillar when he saw her before she saw him. Her red hair was hard to miss, as was the green dress she wore. She met Michael's eyes and gave him a smile just before Luke appeared behind her and held out a glass of punch. She took the glass, turning her eyes to Luke, Michael all but forgotten.

"Do you like what you see?" A voice asked. Michael turned his head to see Valentine leaning against a pillar. He was dressed in all black, with a coat over his shoulders that made him look twice as wide and imposing as he had looked at the bakery. His eyes were like two pieces of coal frozen in the snow.

"She's hard to miss," Michael said. He scanned the room, looking for Robert, and found him talking with Maryse on the other side of the room. Robert glanced over, as if he had felt Michael's eyes on him.

"Do you like always knowing where he is?" Valentine asked. "You aren't possessive, are you?"

"He has his own life," Michael said.

"He does, doesn't he?" Valentine asked. "I ran into he and Miss Trueblood in the Silent City. Well, he and the new Mrs. Lightwood. I was shocked to see that they had gotten married, and with only two witnesses, neither of them being you." Michael nodded, not about to let Valentine get beneath his skin. "I wanted to let you both know that I am going to throw a little party in a few weeks. Consider it a reception for your parabatai and his wife."

"That's ever so kind of you," Michael said. "And with you not knowing either one of us. We must make a fantastic first impression." He looked for Josie and saw her with her parents, talking with a representative from the Paris Institute.

"I know all about you," Valentine mumbled, stepping closer. "I've been following your career at the Academy since your first year. You've grown up so much since then. You should be proud of yourself."

"I am," Michael said, "but you should know, flattery will get you nowhere with me. I prefer candy and chocolates. If you plan to woo me you have to work harder." His tone was light but it masked his temper, barely kept under wraps. It took everything in him to not step away.

"My, you are strong and brave. The perfect Shadowhunter, second best to Stephen Herondale," Valentine whispered into Michael's ear. "It's such a pity your parents couldn't attend the gala and witness your big debut in Shadowhunter society. Even Robert's father made an appearance, but you, you're all alone, like always. It's a shame about your father, isn't it? He could have been one of the great warriors. I guess we'll never know." Michael kept quiet, his right hand forming a fist at his side. "I know you have gotten plenty of offers tonight, and I wanted to give you one more." He opened Michael's jacket and slipped an envelope into the pocket. "It's a little gift, as well as an invitation for your initiation to be held on the night of the full moon in the middle of next month."

"I never said I wanted to join your stupid little fan club," Michael said, but when he looked over, Valentine was gone.

* * *

Three days later, it was a Monday, and Michael was standing in a room at the London Institute, helping Stephen into his dress gear. Unless a Shadowhunter had a high ranking position with the Clave, dress gear was only worn for celebrations and weddings. Stephen's gear was clearly handmade; consisting of the same black fabric the rest of their gear was made of, but embroidered with runes made of gold threads. In keeping with Shadowhunter tradition, the groom's family paid for the wedding, and Marcus and Imogen Herondale spared no expense. Their only son was getting married, and as they no longer ran the London Institute, they wanted to throw a memorable party.

"Thank you for being here," Stephen said. His voice almost always sounded confident, and he spoke with a British accent much like Michael. Today, his voice was softer, and he fidgeted with the buttons on his jacket. Michael spun him around and buttoned them for him, slipping each of the fine gold buttons into the tailored buttonholes. "Luke is busy with Amatis, as he should be, and I had a disagreement with my father…"

"What about?" Michael asked.

"Politics. My future, and the one he wanted for me," Stephen said. "It's not just because of Amatis. I know what people say about her, and what my father believes about her. My father assumed I would be taking over the London Institute, but I don't want that. I don't want to live my life the way my father lived his, the same as his father lived his, and the same as his father lived his life. I want more than the London Institute."

"He shouldn't expect you to live his dreams," Michael said, running his hands over the jacket to smooth out any wrinkles.

"Easy for you to say," Stephan said, turning to look into the mirror.

It had been easier for Michael to grow up with none of the pressure or expectations that Stephen had grown up with. Michael's parents were fairly ordinary, their only claim to fame being a significant amount of property with a very large house on it. Of course, it was Stephen who was having the lavish wedding, and Stephen who would be taking a six weeklong tour of Europe for his honeymoon. Stephen was a dreamer and a thinker, a boy who sat in class and stared off into space, his mind thinking twenty different things at once.

"He's thrown me out, you know. Not that I was living with him. I'm just no longer welcome to," Stephen continued. "As he said, I am man now, and I can live on my own and take care of myself." He went over to a silver box and opened it, first taking out a ring he slipped onto his right ring finger. He took a gold necklace with a pendent of an angel on it from the box as well and slipped it into his pocket, then took a silver dagger adorned with swooping birds and placed it into the scabbard on his belt. Michael didn't bother to question any of it. He knew the Herondale family, like many of the old Shadowhunter families, had rituals and talismans associated with nearly every significant life event.

"Where will you go?" Michael asked.

"A little house on Canal Street," Stephen said, mentioning one of the lower rent districts of Alicante. "I know we could do better but I've been cut off from any financial help, so I'll need to get a job, I suppose. The house has a leaky roof and the water only runs hot or cold, but it's mine, and it is going to be a home for Amatis and I, and… the baby."

"The baby?" Michael asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're having a baby?" He should have expected this, given Robert, but Stephen wasn't Robert. The world was Stephen's oyster, and he had hopes and dreams, clearly, beyond marrying, having children, and settling into the same life his father had lived.

"Amatis and I might have drank some wine and fooled around a few weeks ago," Stephen said. "We both got a little carried away."

"I've heard it happens to the best of us," Michael said, rolling his eyes.

"You too?" Stephen asked.

"NO!" Michael exclaimed, blushing. "Not… yet." He looked down at the ring on his right hand, with the W on it for the Wayland family.

Stephen smiled and laughed. "So Amatis took a pregnancy test yesterday and it came back positive. We'll confirm it with the Silent Brothers tomorrow when we register our marriage," Stephen said. He glanced at the door and lowered his voice. "Luke doesn't know, my parents don't know… we want to keep it under wraps for a few months, or at least until we get back from our honeymoon. Mother will be pleased, but Father… this could send him to an early grave."

"It's a baby," Michael said. "It's wonderful."

"It is, isn't it?" Stephen asked. He stepped closer to Michael. "I'm going to join the Circle, I think. Father knows about it. All the older members of the Clave do. It makes them nervous, but I don't see what could be so wrong about it. Generation after generation, there haven't been any changes to the laws. Maybe… maybe we can make a difference."

"I don't know…" Michael said, tugging on Stephen's jacket one more time. Stephen's eyes were bright blue, his skin flawless and pale, seeming to glow from within. His whole life was before him, his for the taking.

"I'm going to a meeting when I get home from the honeymoon," Stephen said. "It can't be half as bad as the old people are making it out to be." He stepped towards the door as it opened and Luke glanced inside, meeting Michael's eyes before looking at Stephen.

"It's time," Luke said. "She's beautiful, by the way. I'm impartial, but…"

"I'm the luckiest man in this whole entire town," Stephen said. "I can't wait to become her husband."

* * *

The sanctuary of the London Institute was one of Michael's favorite places in the whole entire Institute. The floor and walls were stone, and a fountain stood in the middle of the room. A statue of an Angel stood in the middle of the fountain, water pouring down from it, and there were tapestries on the walls made of black fabric and gold thread, depicting runes of love and marriage. The room was dark save for a few witch light sconces, as well as an alter covered with flickering candles. More people would be at the reception later on, but for the wedding, Stephen's parents had only invited twenty people who were closest to the family, making the location of the wedding feel even more sacred then it would otherwise.

From the moment Amatis walked down the aisle, arm in arm with Luke, Stephen couldn't take his eyes off her. She was absolutely radiant, and whispered her vows to Stephen while trying not to cry. Stephen was crying, he was nodding and smiling and repeating her words back to her, promising in sickness and in health until death did they part. When the vows were finished, Amatis let go of Stephen's hand and walked in a circle around him, once, then twice, then a third time, whispering to him words that could not be heard. This was a mundane tradition, Michael knew, of the Jewish faith. In circling Stephen three times, Amatis was symbolizing that she would protect Stephen and encompass him as his wife, betrothing herself to him in faithfulness, righteousness, and justice, forever.

When the wedding was nearly finished, Stephen and Amatis both drank from the same wine glass before leaving the sanctuary. This was when they would draw their runes, binding themselves to one another in the eyes of the Angel and the Clave. While they were gone, Michael looked across the aisle, at the girl wearing the blue dress, carrying the cream colored roses. Josie looked back at Michael and smiled, and Michael understood how Robert and Maryse could run off and get married when the mood struck them. Binding yourself to another person changed everything; as Michael and Robert would be parted only by death, so would Robert and Maryse.

When the Sanctuary doors opened again, Stephen walked in, holding hands with Amatis, who now had runes on her arm and over her heart. Michael didn't need to see that Stephen wore the same runes now; as he leaned close and pressed his lips to Amatis, kissing her passionately, it was obvious that something profound had changed with them.

* * *

Three days after Stephen's wedding, Michael was standing in a room at Wayland Manor, buttoning the same set of dress gear he had buttoned for Stephen. Stephen must have seen Michael admiring the set, because when Michael and Josie had been packing to leave London they found a package with their luggage which had contained Stephen's gear, freshly laundered, with a note on it which read _"Something borrowed- SWH."_ Michael could only imagine why Stephen had loaned Michael such an extravagant present, yet he was happy to be wearing it. This was a significant day in Michael's life, and he wanted to be dressed exquisitely for it.

It was just Michael buttoning his jacket and smoothing the wrinkles though. Robert sat by in a chair, eyes closed, having arrived earlier, just in time for breakfast. He hadn't come to London with Michael and Josie, choosing to instead stay in Idris and finish moving into Lightwood Manor. Robert and Michael hadn't gone more than three days without seeing one another since they were children. Now, it felt awkward to be around one another.

"Can we talk?" Robert asked. "Whatever you punishing me for, you've done enough. I'm sorry."

"I'm not punishing you," Michael said. "It's been a rough few weeks. I was just hurt when you got married without me being there and for why you got married-" Robert opened his mouth. "But I understand why you did it, and I'm not angry. If you are happy, I am happy. Let's just put it all behind us."

"I would like that," Robert said with a nod.

"Then it's behind us," Michael said. "Come here. Make sure I look good."

"You always look good," Robert said, crossing the room to look Michael over.

When it came time for the wedding, Michael joined his family beneath a willow tree in the backyard. There he said the same vows Stephen had said to Amatis, though this time they meant something completely different. Michael felt as though he made a thousand promises to Josie, and knew, come heaven or hell, he would never go back on his word. When it came time for the runes to be applied, Michael took Josie's hand and never took his eyes off her as she drew the runes on his skin. As soon as she had finished, he lifted his stele and placed one rune on her arm and another over her heart.

"Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm, for love is as strong as death," Michael said. He dropped the stele and kissed Josie as rose petals rained down around them.

From this point on they would never again have to worry about walking the world without one another.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I loved writing this chapter so I hope you all enjoyed it. Here is a teaser from the next chapter: **

"You've met Celine?" Jocelyn asked.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading and hello to new readers and thank for the wonderful reviews that made me so happy. Enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

After the wedding, Michael and Josie celebrated with their families for much of the afternoon before the sun dipped low in the sky and one by one people began to leave the party. Michael's parents disappeared first, along with Josie's parents. Robert and Maryse left next, wishing Michael and Josie a lovely wedding night and with Robert trying to give Michael advice that he really didn't want to hear. Finally, Josie and Michael ended up in the kitchen, he still in his dress gear and her in her wedding dress, sharing a piece of banana cake iced with soft frosting.

All at once, Josie put her fork down and walked out of the kitchen. Michael had one more bite of cake before following her down the hallway and up a set of steps, watching as she lifted a hand and pulled hair pins from her hair, one by one, so that her blond curls fell down onto her shoulders and spilled down her back. Michael caught up to her and rested a hand on her shoulders, then slid it down to the middle of her back, where the buttons up the back of her dress marched down her spine.

When they got to their bedroom they separated, toeing their shoes off, before Josie put her back to Michael, who began unbuttoning each one of the tiny pearl buttons on her dress. Midway through he got frustrated and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then her neck, feeling her laugh softly, her breath tickling his neck. She turned to him and unbuttoned his jacket, casting it aside, and following it with his shirt. She opened the button on his pants and slid them down, her hands grazing his hips. Michael reached to continue with the buttons, and Josie nudged his hand away.

"It zips," She said. "I thought you might want to wait a little longer."

"You cruel woman you," Michael mumbled, kissing her lips as she unzipped her dress. It fell to the floor in a cloud of silk, revealing a lacy corset. "I can't wait any longer." He slid a hand down her inner thighs and up again, his fingers brushing over the front of her panties, causing her to shiver. He lifted her onto the bed and kissed the corner of her mouth, then straddled her hips and kissed down her neck and chest, his hands shaking as he released the hooks on her corset one by one. Beneath him, Josie moaned, catching his lips with hers as her hands moved down to assist. Moments later, the corset parted and Michael ran his fingers over her breasts and watched as they traveled down, lower, and lower. Not long after, they were naked, pressed together, scared and in love all at once.

When they were finished, they fell asleep, wrapped up together, and when Michael awoke the next morning, he knew that he wanted to wake up every day for the rest of his life with Josephine Wayland.

* * *

Over the next few days, Josie and Michael hardly left their suite of rooms, except for meals. They made love often and spent other times in bed, just talking. They had been married a week when an invitation arrived during breakfast. A party was being held at Fairchild Manor, as Valentine had promised. Michael didn't want to leave, but Josie wanted to see Maryse, so after breakfast they dressed in far more clothes than they were accustomed to wearing, saddled their horses, and departed for Fairchild Manor.

The manor homes were all located in the Forest District of Idris. Both Fairchild and Wayland Manor homes were isolated from the main roads which traveled through Idris, and both were surrounded by thick pine trees. When they entered the forest, the temperature dropped, the breeze stilling. Michael looked down to check and make certain that he had a dagger on his belt. They weren't far from the Brocelind Forest, where scores of werewolf packs made their home. Most every species that lived in Idris kept to themselves, with the vampires and werewolves occupying opposite side of the country. The fey kept mainly to the Lake District, in the foothills of the mountains, some distance away. The Shadowhunters were scattered throughout the country, and it had been years since Michael had seen a warlock in Idris.

"I went through our letters from the gala," Josie said, steering her horse closer to Michael's. "You know, the Paris Institute offered you a teacher position, specializing in languages. I've heard good things about Paris."

"You haven't heard any of the bad things," Michael said with a smile. He reached over and placed a hand on her thigh.

"We could go. Check it out," Josie said. "Your parents have a housekeeper. We don't have to stay with them, you know."

"I can't do that to my mother," Michael said. Even if he and Josie weren't technically helping around the house, Michael still felt better knowing that he was under the same roof as his parents. He thought back to the time his father had been injured, and how he had felt awful about his mother having to take on the burden of the estate alone. "I'm all they have left. I can't just leave. Besides, I don't want to teach. I want to create laws and perhaps work for the Gard." He didn't mention that the morning after the wedding, he had opened the envelope Valentine had given him at the gala and found a sizeable sum of money, an invitation to his initiation, and an offer of a job at the Gard, working in the prison. It wouldn't be a glamorous job, but it would be a job, and perhaps a chance to work his way up to a better position.

"I want you to do whatever makes you happy," Josie said.

"You make me happy," Michael said, nodding towards the trees on either side of the path. Straying from the path might be dangerous, but the floor of the forest was covered with soft pine needles. They could find a place to sit, somewhere quiet and secluded, and stay there until the crickets came out and the sky turned dark blue. "Can I continue to do you?"

"Not until later, Wayland," Josie said, rolling her eyes. A light blush covered her cheeks. She had at least considered the proposition.

"And what do you want to do?" Michael asked. Josie wasn't expected to conform to the expectations of all the other Shadowhunter girls, the ones who had to get married and have a family. She could have a career if she wanted, doing anything she might like.

"I'm not sure yet," Josie said. "I would like to start our family, but I don't want us to have a baby right away. I just want it to happen, for me to one day wake up and be pregnant, with no thought at all." Michael thought back to Stephen, who was expecting a baby with Amatis, having gotten carried away one afternoon. Just like that, his life had changed forever.

"Well, I need you to let me know what we want to do," Michael said softly, despite them being all alone in the woods. It still felt taboo to discuss this sort of thing. Moreover, there had been all the times that they had made love since the wedding, when birth control, and being responsible, had been the last thing on Michael's mind.

"I want everything," Josie said. "I want a life I can be proud of, a family of my own, and a husband who is everything I could ever desire in a man. I want it all."

"I can promise you everything," Michael said.

Once out of the woods, Fairchild Manor came into view. It was more modern than any of the other manor houses Michael had ever encountered. Fairchild Manor was wide as Herondale Manor was, but composed of white stone and many windows. There was a long porch on the front of it with round columns that overlooked a treeless lawn.

After Michael and Josie had settled their horses in a pasture beside the house, they climbed up the front steps to the door and rang a doorbell. A moment later, the door opened.

The girl that opened the door looked to be no older than 17. She wore a cream colored, low cut dress over a two piece bathing suit. The dress was so short it barely grazed the tops of her thighs. She was no more than five feet tall, her skin was flawless, as she had no runes Michael could see. This was a girl who had never seen battle or difficult training. An amulet much like what Valentine wore was around her neck. Her hair was blonde and curling slightly in the humidity, her eyes were hazel, and she was beautiful.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wayland," the girl said. Her voice had a light French accent to it. "We've been expecting you. Come." Michael stepped into the house, taking Josie's hand, and followed the girl though the house. Once they got to a kitchen, the girl gave Michael a shy smile before she went outside to a patio and looked off into the distance, her smile melting away as soon as she was alone.

The kitchen was filled with windows which overlooked a small lake behind the house. There was a table set for five, topped with a bouquet of fragrant purple flowers. The oven was on and Jocelyn was standing beside a counter, a jar of jam in her hands, a dark apron covering her pale dress that hung off her thin shoulders.

"You've met Celine?" Jocelyn asked.

"She has a name?" Michael asked, feigning surprise. He felt a smile on his lips at just being in Jocelyn's presence. Jocelyn exuded warmth and comfort, the same way Josie did.

"A few of them," Jocelyn said. "She's very shy, but she'll warm up to you once she gets to know you." She brushed her hair away from her eyes and offered the jam jar to Michael, who opened it and handed it back to her. "She's a Montclair. Valentine's parents took her in when her parents were killed by warlocks, and he considers her his sister. She's been living with him, since, well… since Valentine's parents were killed."

Michael could hardly recall the incident. It had happened a number of years before, when Valentine had been a fourth year at the Academy and Robert, Michael, and Stephen were halfway though their first semester. Michael had just returned to school after his father's injury when Valentine was pulled out of school, suddenly, one afternoon. Stories spread through school like wildfire, with no one knowing for sure what had happened. It wasn't until Valentine returned that the truth came out. Valentine's parents had been killed by rogue werewolves.

To die fighting demons was expected, but to die in a fight with Downworlders was virtually unheard of. The Accords were in place for that reason, to forbid any race from willingly bring harm to another. The demon which had injured Michael's father had been faceless and nameless yet Michael still hated it and wanted to see it gone forever. He could only imagine how Valentine would feel, to know that his parents were killed by creatures who had names and faces, when he was capable of revenge.

"I had no idea he had a sister," Michael said. The image of Valentine caring for a girl like Celine juxtaposed with the image Michael had of Valentine, who was all hardness and conflict."Why wasn't she sent to the Academy?"

"She has a tutor," Jocelyn said briskly. "And what the tutor doesn't cover, Valentine does. Don't let Celine fool you. She is capable of much more than one would expect. She was trained almost exclusively by Valentine." Jocelyn took a spoon from a drawer and had a small bite of jam, allowing it to melt in her mouth.

"Thank you for before, at the meeting," Michael said suddenly. "For covering for me?"

"Any time," Jocelyn said with a shrug. "You looked lost."

"It was something else," Michael said, with a wave of his hand. It had been Hodge who had knocked Michael off balance, with his unwelcome kiss and his taunting eyes. Michael shivered and stole a look at Josie. He had promised to tell her everything, yet had somehow managed to forget to tell her about the one time he had felt wrong.

"Whatever the case, I am glad you were found," Jocelyn said. "And thank you…" Josie smiled and nodded, watching the both of them. "The pregnancy. Thank you for your congratulations. Just please, keep it quiet, we don't want anyone to know. This will be the first child born to the Circle, you know. Valentine, he wants to wait, until…"

"I understand," Josie said with a smile. "Miscarriages run in my family, as do difficult pregnancies. When are you due?"

"A few months more, perhaps," Jocelyn said. She slid a hand over her apron and pulled it tight over her stomach, wincing once. She was more than a few months pregnant but managed to conceal it well. "He's such a tremendous kicker. He's begun keeping me awake at all hours of the night." Josie reached her hand out, which Jocelyn took and placed on her stomach.

"Michael, come here," Josie said. She grabbed his hand and placed it on Jocelyn's stomach. Michael felt a tiny nudge against his hand, soft at first, then harder, causing Jocelyn to wince again.

"He's been awful to me. Positively awful," Jocelyn said. "First he made me sick, then tired, then emotional. I spent half of last month crying almost nonstop. My parents think I am depressed but Valentine says it's all very normal." She stepped away from them and went back to the jar of jam. "So keep it a secret a little longer? Luke should hear it from me."

"Your secret is safe with us," Michael said, meeting Jocelyn's eyes. Jocelyn gave him a small smile, her face going pale. She sat down at the table and took a few steadying breathes.

"Now Michael," she said. "The men are off getting into trouble in the woods, your Robert included." Michael blushed a little. It had been nearly a week since Michael had last seen Robert, the longest stretch of time they had ever gone without seeing one another. "Josie, Maryse is outside if you wanted to visit with her, or you can stay in here, bake jam tarts with me… Oh- and tell me all about your wedding." Jocelyn took a breath and shook her head. "This one's a warrior through and through." Josie gave Michael a smile, and Michael vowed to pick up a reliable form of birth control the next time they went to town, until they decided what to do about trying for a baby. Not that he didn't want to have a family with her. Oh, he couldn't think about it anymore.

"Jam tarts it is," Josie said, going to wash her hands. Michael followed her over to the sink and kissed her cheek.

"Be back in time for lunch," Jocelyn said, as Josie pushed him over to the door.

* * *

Michael went outside to a patio and saw Celine still watching the woods, her eyes intent on the trees. Maryse was lounging by herself in the corner of the patio, an empty wine glass at her feet. Without Robert, Maryse had always been quiet. It was Robert who brought out her boldness when she wasn't training. In training she was fearless and strong, tall and lean with a penchant for close range combat. Josie had always been a capable Shadowhunter but she wasn't Maryse, who once broke a girl's nose in training and then blamed her for not reacting fast enough. Maryse could slit a man's throat in the blink of an eye and feel no remorse for doing such a thing.

As Michael walked past her, Maryse looked up, meeting his eyes, her mouth set into a grim line.

"Are you alright?" Michael asked. He was unsure of what prompted him to care about Maryse, beyond the fact that she was now married to Robert. They had always kept one another at a chilly distance, never once feeling comfortable with one another.

"Just fine," Maryse said. "Check on them, will you?" Michael nodded and stepped off the patio, heading towards a thick line of trees, following the sound of voices. He felt his heart pound and he reached up, running a hand over his chest, feeling wrong, though he couldn't discern why. He stepped beneath a pine tree and broke into a jog, shoving branches out of the way.

Michael saw Valentine among the trees first, dressed in gear despite the summer heat, laughing as Hodge stood beside him. Hodge had the same smile on his face that he wore the night he kissed Michael and blamed him for it. There was Robert's voice in there as well, saying something, sounding winded. As Michael stepped into the clearing, he found out why.

Robert and Luke were locked together by the arms, shirtless and covered with bloody scratches and sweat, as Valentine, Hodge, and the immovable brutes that were the Pangborn brothers stood by.

"Kick his ass!" Emil Pangborn yelled. "Come on, Lightwood, do you want to win, or don't you? Don't be a pansy. We all know you're nothing but a pansy." He laughed a soulless laugh, and Michael was reminded of Robert's father, and all of the things Robert would never admit to. His father had held his children to the highest of expectations, more so his boys than his girls, and nothing Robert had ever achieved was ever good enough.

"That's enough," Michael said, giving Emil a glare. "Robbie. What are you doing?"

"Go away," Robert mumbled. He shoved Luke away and straightened, pulling up his fists. His knuckles were swollen and bloody, his face bleeding and bruised. Across from him, Luke was swaying on his feet, his right eye swollen shut, his hair black with blood. As Michael watched, Luke fell forward and caught himself, his lips parting as he took a painful breath, blood dripping down his chin. This was no mere fist fight, this was a battle to near death, and Luke was losing.

"Finish him," Valentine said. "Robert. Finish him!" Robert took his fist and smashed it into Luke's jaw. Luke's head snapped to the side, violently, before he hit his knees and landed, facedown, on the floor of the clearing.

Michael's first instinct was to go to Luke and he did, kneeling beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder, checking to make sure he was still alive, though Valentine shoved him away, telling Michael to tend to his own parabatai. Only then did Michael go to Robert, who grasped his hands and kissed the backs of them. His skin felt fever hot, and he was shivering, the blood on his hands turning Michael's skin sticky and red.

"What did you do?" Michael asked.

"What I had to," Robert said, closing his eyes. Michael pulled out his stele and drew a healing rune on his shoulder and another on his wrist, ignoring Robert as he winced and struggled to get away. Luke was in pain beside them, a pain that Robert had caused, and Valentine was drawing runes on him before he pulled out a small bottle and poured its contents down Luke's throat. Luke coughed once, his throat working to swallow. Valentine held a bottle out to Michael, who took it. Robert nodded, opening his mouth. Michael unscrewed the cap from the bottle and poured a viscous, gold liquid down Robert's throat. Robert choked on the liquid before swallowing it.

"Why?" Michael asked. Luke was so much more than just Luke. He was Amatis's brother, Stephen's brother in law, and Valentine's parabatai. He had done nothing to deserve a punishment as brutal as this.

"Just like the wolves," Valentine said with a laugh. "We needed to settle the pecking order. Luke's never had someone who was his equal in the Circle before. Now Luke knows, Robert can best him at any time. Luke should watch his back. He is replaceable."

"He's your parabatai," Michael said. Robert might have done things to make Michael dislike him, but he could never be replaced. He climbed to his feet and helped Robert up.

"You are all replaceable," Valentine said. "Never think that I don't have people who would kill to be standing where you are now." This was directed at Hodge and the Pangborns, who all quickly lost their smiles.

"And if someone was to take out the alpha, what then?" Michael asked. "If you were just settling the pecking order, like the wolves." Valentine looked over, his eyes dark for just a moment.

"Michael," Robert said. He grabbed Michael around the waist and put his lips to his ear. "Stop."

"No. What happens when the Alpha dies?" Michael asked, a little louder. He couldn't help it. Seeing Robert and Luke needlessly hurt had flipped a switch inside of him, and he couldn't stop, even if he wanted to.

"Now Michael, we were just having a bit of fun," Valentine said with a chuckle. "If you want to fight Robert, be my guest, though I doubt it would work out in your favor. You're the brains of your partnership. Robert is the brawn. You will submit to him long before he submits to you." Hodge smirked, making no secret about looking Robert and Michael over.

"We aren't animals," Michael snapped. Valentine stormed over, getting so close, Michael felt Robert's hand on his wrist, pulling him back. Michael jerked his hand away and met Valentine's eyes, his left hand reaching for his dagger.

"Every man becomes an animal when he has to," Valentine said. "Even you." His dark eyes glared down at Michael, who looked back, never once backing down. "Come. It's nearly time for lunch."

Valentine started back towards the house, the group following in his wake, and Michael realized that he never had answered his question.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Ihope you enjoyed this chapter. I had so much fun writing it. Here is a teaser. I wanted to give you a decent teaser, but there are a lot of lines in the next chapter that don't make sense if taken out of context.**

**Teaser:** There was no moving on from this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Enjoy. I am sorry this is showing up a day early. It was finished and I am focusing on the last few chapters of this story so when I was given the chance to post a chapter early, I took it. Please sign up for a story alert if you are really following this story, because over the next few weeks, I may be posting two chapters a week, and i would hate for anyone to miss an update. **

* * *

**Chapter 7**

When Michael and Robert arrived back at the house with the group, Jocelyn, Celine, and Josie were standing on the patio along with Maryse. Celine made a frightened noise and ran off the patio, shoving Anson Pangborn aside as she got to Luke and touched his face, her hand shaking. She whispered something in French and Luke replied as best he could.

"Honestly, Celine," Valentine said beneath his breath. "You can help Robert."

"I will help Robert," Michael said. He took Robert by the arm and hauled him up the steps of the patio, passed Jocelyn, Maryse, and Josie. Maryse stepped closer to Robert, looking him over, though she made no move to help him. Instead, she and Robert shared a nod, a resignation that they each had to do what they had to do for the group. Something had happened in the time since Michael had last seen Robert. Somehow, the Circle had already pulled he and Maryse close and refused to let them go.

Once inside, Michael took Robert to a bathroom and had him sit on the side of a bathtub while he scrubbed out the cuts and scrapes that hadn't yet healed. Celine showed up once with cloths and bandages, which Michael accepted before he took her by the arm, led her to the door, and closed it in her face. She had no business being with them. Not when Michael didn't know or trust her the way he trusted Jocelyn, who was off taking care of Luke.

"What were you thinking?" Michael asked quietly.

"We were training," Robert said. He winced as Michael got soap into a cut. This was Robert, who was brazen on the outside, who would fight someone who never once harmed him, only to fidget when it came to soap, water, and damaged skin.

"Don't lie to me," Michael said.

"It was my initiation," Robert said. "Valentine said he didn't think I could fight Luke until he fell down and couldn't get back up. I had to do it." Michael was silent, still scrubbing, turning a white washcloth pink. The wounds were healing quickly, faster than they usually did, yet there was still blood, Robert's blood, and Michael could not bear to see it. "Michael, I love you."

"What does that have to do with this?"

"I need you, with me," Robert said. "You and I, we have hopes and dreams, don't we? Things we want out of this life?" Michael nodded. "Well, I have things I want as well. All I ask is that you support me. Can you do that, please? It's not that bad. I'm in the Circle now, and soon you will be, and all those hopes and dreams we have might be a little closer to attainable. Valentine has power. He can make people listen to him. With him, we can have whatever we want."

"But I already have everything I could ever want," Michael said.

* * *

After lunch, the skies opened up, sending most of the Circle inside while Luke and Celine stayed outside, splashing in puddles and dancing in the raindrops as the rest of the Circle watched them and laughed, all of the drama of the earlier part of the day seemingly forgotten. When the rain was finished the sun came out, bringing about humidity that made the air feel heavy. Maryse and Robert stripped down to their underclothes and went to swim in the lake, prompting Luke and Celine to follow. Josie and Jocelyn went to sit in the corner of the patio on some pillows to continue talking, and Michael sat in a chair in the shade. He was nearly asleep when he felt something icy press to his hand as Valentine sat beside him.

"Just like the wolves?" Michael asked.

"The Pangborns are simpleminded. I had to give them something they could understand," Valentine said. "It's tea. Drink." Michael took the glass of tea and had a sip, feeling the cool liquid against his tongue, the perfect relief to the sweltering afternoon. "You and I both know how eager Robert is to prove himself. This initiation was the safest for him. He would do anything."

"I know," Michael said. Robert lived for confrontation and challenge. "Why Luke? Doesn't hurting him hurt you?"

"Luke would do anything I asked of him. He is my second in command," Valentine said simply. "Besides, if Luke was truly hurt, do you think he would be out in the lake now, doing what he is doing?" Michael looked out to the lake just as Luke tossed Celine into the air. She screamed, her legs kicking, her bathing suit top dangerously close to falling off as she landed in the water and went under. She surfaced, her top missing, and covered herself, laughing, as Robert tossed the bikini top to Luke, who threw it back to Robert. It was Maryse who got the top and returned it to Celine, helping her tie it back on as Luke and Robert stood by, watching, shameless.

"Is this your Circle?" Michael asked. "You and Jocelyn, Hodge, the Pangborns, Robert and Maryse, Celine… How do you plan to change the world with seven people?"

"And you as well," Valentine said. "This isn't the entire Circle. Our group operates in small segments, as to not arouse suspicion. In truth, the Circle is much larger than you would ever know. Many of the best known Shadowhunter families belong to it. Half of your classmates have been to meetings, all with their parent's blessings."

"Why would you tell me this?" Michael asked.

"Because I trust you," Valentine said, "and because you would have figured it out before long. You're observant. People don't give you half the credit you deserve. Robert overshadows you." Michael sipped his tea. "I know you have things you want. I know that for as much as you dislike me, a part of you is curious about what we have the potential to do. It's why you're still sitting here."

Michael looked out to the lake again. Robert was reclined in the water with his arms around Maryse while Celine and Luke floated close beside them. They were all talking, their limbs occasionally rubbing against one another's. There was an intimacy to their behavior Michael hadn't noticed before.

"You know, your parents were right about you," Valentine continued. "I've been to see them, and the Herondales and Robert's father as well," Valentine said. "Those lovely tarts Jocelyn baked earlier were made with some of your mother's apricot jam. Weren't they just heavenly?"

"You've been to see my parents?" Michael asked. Valentine, the man who pitted Luke and Robert against one another to test their loyalty, had been inside his parent's home.

"Why, we're neighbors," Valentine replied. "I've been visiting with them since they moved out to your manor permanently."

"You're hardly neighbors," Michael said.

"Don't get so defensive," Valentine scoffed. He touched Michael's hand. "I like your parents. Your mother is so eccentric, and your father, well, it's a pity about him. So much potential, cut down in battle. The Clave has turned their back on him, haven't they? But isn't that the case with your family? Haven't the Waylands always operated just on the outside of society? You don't run Institutes. You don't teach. You don't have much to offer the world, do you?"

"Are you asking me a question, or do you just get off on hearing yourself speak?" Michael asked.

"I'm just making observations," Valentine said. "You question everything. I love that about you. You are so very smart, Michael, you don't get your due. You have so much potential. I want to help you."

"And what do I have to do in return?" Michael asked. "Who do I have to fight to prove my worth to you?"

"You'll see," Valentine said. He smiled and looked out over the lake. Celine was back to being thrown into the water by Luke as Maryse pressed close to Robert, sneaking the occasional kiss. "What do you think of Celine?"

"Well, she is your sister, and she's pretty, I guess, but I'm happily married," Michael said.

"That doesn't matter," Valentine mumbled.

"To me it does," Michael said, evenly. "You must have a reason for keeping her around when he should have gone to the Academy. You even trained her yourself, and kept her hidden away."

"You are correct. That is why I like you. You are perceptive," Valentine said. "Everything happens for a reason. We all have a purpose. Celine has a purpose, as does Robert, Jocelyn, and even you. The only question is, what is your purpose?"

* * *

Early the next morning, Michael woke up at the end of the bed, completely naked, his mouth feeling terribly dry. Josie lay beside him, wrapped in a sheet, snoring softly. There was a trail of clothing started at the door and ended at the foot of the bed and the front window was open, letting in a cool, damp breeze smelling of rain.

Michael climbed out of bed and dressed quietly, wincing when he pulled a shirt on and the skin across his back pulled tight. He looked into a mirror to see deep scratches across his back, which could have only come from Josie, though that was impossible, because in the handful of times that they had sex since they had been married eight days before, they had never gotten passionate enough to draw blood. Michael couldn't even see himself sucking on her skin hard enough to leave a bruise behind, the way Robert did some times to Maryse. Still, the scratches were very real, and left blood on Michael's finger when he traced over them.

The night before had been unusual. Michael and Josie had stayed at Fairchild Manor for dinner, long past sunset, and had drank more of the sweet tea before Josie stripped down to her bra and panties and stepped into the lake, swearing that next time, she would bring a bathing suit. Not that modesty mattered at Fairchild Manor. By dinner Robert was fairly intoxicated and Michael had seen Maryse naked more than once. She was beautiful, Michael noticed, not in the casual way that Josie was but exotically, her skin pale and adorned with black runes. Her hair was black when it was wet and looked like curtain of silk down her back. When Robert came up behind her, pulling her naked body against his as he kissed her neck and ran a hand down her chest, Michael had to force himself look away.

The rules seemed relaxed at Fairchild Manor, at least with Jocelyn's parents spending the weekend in Idris. When Josie had stood knee deep in the water and turned back to Michael, beckoning to him, he had stripped down to his boxers and joined her in the cool, crisp water as the sun fell from the sky. They had swam together, ignoring everyone else, until the peeks of skin they gave one another proved too much temptation, and they returned home, going straight upstairs to spend half the night making love.

There were times in the night that Michael couldn't remember. He would only recall opening his eyes and pressing his lips to Josie's and he sat in a chair and she braced her hands on his shoulders, her breasts bouncing before him as he clutched at her lower back. They'd been on the floor together, and against the wall…

"Michael?" Josie asked, turning over. She stretched and winced, then smiled.

"I was just up…" Michael began. Josie gave him a devilish grin. "Go back to sleep. I'm going to the kitchen to get us a tray." Josie nodded and turned her face back into the blankets.

* * *

The kitchen of Wayland Manor was a welcome step back in time for Michael, to when he used to pester the cook for cast offs while waiting for a meal to be served. There was only one cook now, making eggs and sausages, who shooed Michael away, out into the room off the back of the house, with the glass walls and plants that filled the room. His father was already there, dressed in a fine linen suit, prepared for a day of travelling. Michael sat at the table beside him and his father poured him a cup of tea. Jon was in his wheelchair, as he was, increasingly, but if Michael didn't look down, he could almost pretend that his father wasn't injured, and that this house he lived in wasn't also his prison.

"It's been so lovely to have you here," Jon said. "This will all be yours one day, but in the mean time, it's nice to share it with you."

"I'm glad to be here," Michael said quickly. He took a sip of his tea and looked towards the door, hating himself.

"You would love to be anywhere else," Jon said. "You're my son, Michael, and when I said you could have the life you wanted it didn't living in an empty house with your parents. You were raised to accomplish more."

"I'm happy here," Michael said. "I'll accomplish everything I want here. I am your son, and my duty is to you."

"And the Circle," Jon said. "I know why you've come down here so early. It has something to do with the Circle, doesn't it? Valentine's desire for reform still seems wrong, doesn't? That's what the Clave would want you to believe, that anyone who opposes the norm must be wrong. Treasonous, even." Jon knew his son better than Michael wanted to admit. He knew that Michael had been raised with a clear definition of right and wrong, and to oppose the Clave, no matter the reason, was wrong.

"If reform was good for the Clave, wouldn't you think that they would have reformed the laws before now?" Michael asked.

"By that logic, shouldn't they have changed things when I was your age?" Jon asked. "The laws that are in place now are virtually the same laws that have been around since your great grandfather was just a boy. We live and we die and for so long we have assumed that being killed by demons is all we should aspire for. Let me tell you, boy, this is NOT the life I wanted." He gestured to his wheelchair before shaking his head. "I didn't die when I was supposed to, and now I'll suffer because of it."

"That isn't true," Michael said, though he knew it was. He thought back to when Jon had been injured and Michael had come to the Silent City with Robert to find his father lying on a stone table, covered from the waist down with a blanket. The brothers had placed him in the ossurium, a room where they prepared the dead for burning. They had expected Jon to succumb to his injuries and yet he had not. For Michael, it had been obvious that his father was supposed to die, and when he hadn't, the Silent Brothers hadn't known what to do with him. Nor did the Clave, who did everything they possibly could to help Jon feel comfortable at home before washing their hands of the matter.

Michael had done the same, in truth. After returning to school that first year, Michael found himself coming up with excuses to not come home on the weekends. Even in his last year of schooling, with he and Josie planning a wedding, they still avoided going back to Wayland Manor simply because Michael had difficulty seeing his once healthy and vibrant father reduced to an aging man in a wheelchair. Had Jon been killed it would have been quick and painless, here one minute and gone the next, and Michael would have mourned him, but he would have moved on. There was no moving on from this.

"I spent my life serving the Clave, and I asked things on them, yes, when I was your age. I asked them for reform. I asked them for a way to make more Shadowhunters that didn't involve forcing our children into marriages just after they've become adults. They never gave any of it to me. They've given me a chair with wheels on it. A pension for me to live on. A seat on the Council when I can make it to town, but they've taken away so much more, and now, I've lost my voice. So yes, when Valentine Morgenstern came to talk with me, I listened, and he listened in return, and he has my full support. I'm not asking you to join the Circle if you don't want to. I'm not asking you to take on the burden of changing the world when you have already taken on so much. I'm just asking you to please, consider giving your children a future that is different from the one you have."

* * *

After breakfast, Jon and Dacia departed for Alicante, for a Council meeting. They had invited Michael and Josie along, but the prospect of an empty house was too tempting. Instead, Michael and Josie returned to bed and were lying together beneath a light sheet when the housekeeper knocked on the door and delivered another invitation to Fairchild Manor. This time, now that he had his father's blessing, Michael didn't mind going, and it was early afternoon when he and Josie made the short ride to Fairchild Manor. Once there they had sweet tea and lunch before they took to swimming and laying in the sunshine.

Days spent at Fairchild Manor began to bleed together. First one week passed, and then another, with a morning spent training with weapons. Michael felt his relationship with Robert begin to repair itself, until they were back to fighting side by side or back to back, always knowing what move the other was about to make. They sparred with Hodge and Luke most often, and were injured occasionally, though the injuries were always healed quickly, with runes or with the golden syrup Valentine provided. Josie and Maryse resumed training together as well, giving the men of the Circle something to watch on the mornings when fog lifted from the ground as they battled one another. Jocelyn withdrew more, staying inside often, and Celine sat by with Luke, never once touching a weapon.

In the afternoon, when the sun climbed high in the sky and the air grew hot, they took to swimming, usually with Maryse and Robert stripping off their gear and jumping into the water first. Michael and Josie followed after, with Luke and Celine as well, while Valentine laughed and tried to get them to come back to training, with no avail. First they swam with bathing suits, and then when Jocelyn's parents weren't around, they took to swimming naked, enjoying the kiss of water on their bare skin as they dove beneath the surface and came up again. Not long after they entered the water, Robert usually took Maryse by the arm and pulled her off into the woods surrounding the lake. They would return some time after, slipping back into the water, trying to not smile, giggle, or do both.

The woods, and doing what Robert and Maryse were doing, was tempting, often, especially when Valentine elbowed Michael in the side and pointed at Maryse and Robert, sneaking off again. Michael supposed that he should want to do that but a part of him found the practice somehow wrong. If he and Josie were to make love, it would happen in a place that contained only them, and not with everyone else twenty feet away. No one even considered that what Robert and Maryse were doing was wrong; it was instead accepted.

Being at Fairchild Manor felt like being in a different world, where the rules were relaxed and Michael and Josie could have anything they wanted. Some days were spent in clarity, and other days, they drank sweet tea and lounged together, numb, complacent, and most of all, happy. Michael might have questioned it but he didn't want to, because questioning took thought, and after twelve years of schooling, he didn't want to think.

It was on one of the clear days, when June began to give way to July, when Michael walked into the house to use the bathroom and encountered Jocelyn in a hallway. Her face was pale as milk, and she clutched at her dress, keeping it up off the floor, as she looked down at her feet. It had been nearly a week since Jocelyn had come out of the house.

"Jocelyn," Michael said, "what's the matter?"

"I'm bleeding," Jocelyn said. "There's blood, and… the baby…"

"I'll get Valentine," Michael said quickly, turning away as Jocelyn seized him by the arm and pulled him back to her.

"You will do no such thing," Jocelyn said. "If you summon him, he'll come and give me more of that potion, and other things, too. He'll drug me to the point that I am incoherent. No. If I lose the baby, perhaps I'll be free of him, and this place."

"Why would you ever want to be free of this place?" Michael asked.

"Oh, angel, he already has you," Jocelyn said, whispering. "You were right, before, when you questioned him. There is nothing good or right happening here. There is something in the basement. A baby, perhaps. I hear it crying in the night. If you stay here, you might hear it to."

"A baby in the basement?" Michael asked. "Jocelyn. There is something wrong with you. I'm going to get Valentine." He pulled away from her and stepped away, looking back. Her eyes were ringed with black circles, and it looked as if she hadn't slept in days. She ran a hand down her dress, pulling it tight to her stomach, and Michael saw the fabric rising up as the baby kicked, harder than any baby should be able to kick. Michael felt acid rise into the back of his throat, and he stepped backwards, wanting to be away from Jocelyn.

"There is nothing wrong with me!" Jocelyn exclaimed. "It's the baby, Michael. The baby!"

"I'm getting Valentine," Michael said. He turned back and nearly ran into Celine, who had appeared out of nowhere. Her hair was dripping wet from the lake, and her dress was stuck to her skin, nearly see through, showing the outline of her breasts. She looked into Michael's eyes, her breath catching in her throat, before she stepped over to Jocelyn.

"Come, Jocelyn. Let's get you to bed," Celine said. To Michael, she whispered, "She's having one of her fits. All pregnant women have these. It's just the baby. He's stronger than most." She pulled Jocelyn down the hallway, leaving wet footprints behind.

By the time Michael got back outside, the incident was all but forgotten to him. Luke was grilling steaks and drinking beer with Robert. Josie was off with Maryse, talking and laughing. Celine came out after a while and slipped her arms around Valentine's shoulders, leaning close to his ear to whisper something. Valentine went inside and didn't come back out.

"She's gone a bit mad," Celine said to Michael, before she stripped off her dress and dove back into the water.

A few days later, it was morning and Michael was lying in bed, looking over at the closed bathroom door. The day before they had gone to Alicante and Josie had picked up a three pack of pregnancy tests, having a hunch, and this morning, she had climbed out of bed early and had gone to take one of the tests. Oddly enough, Michael didn't care about the result. Life was so wonderful already, and a baby, no matter when it arrived, would only add to that. When the bathroom door opened and Josie walked out, grinning, Michael already knew the test result, though the plus sign only confirmed things. Five weeks after they were married, Josie was three weeks pregnant.

Michael and Josie returned to Fairchild Manor, where they didn't reveal the pregnancy right away. Instead, they acted as normal as they could, even managing to sympathize with Robert and Maryse, who hadn't had any luck in conceiving a child. Jocelyn had recovered from her fit and began coming outside again, acting as if nothing had ever happened. The training continued, as did the swimming and group activities that only served to bring Michael and Robert, Hodge, Valentine, and Luke closer.

In the middle of July two things happened. Michael's initiation was scheduled for the night of the full moon, and Stephen Herondale showed up at a Circle meeting without his wife.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading!**

**Teaser: **

"Do you mean things in your marriage have to stay sacred?" Valentine asked.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Thank you for your continued support!**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

The month of July revealed itself to be just as miserably hot as June had been. A few days after Josie found out that she was pregnant, she and Michael went to the Silent City to confirm the pregnancy with a Silent Brother, who reported that they could expect their child to arrive in March of the following year. Despite the news that the pregnancy, although early on, appeared to be normal, Josie and Michael refused to tell anyone, which included Michael's parents. Anything could happen, and Michael wanted to remain cautious.

Suddenly, Michael found himself very protective of Josie. The morning after they returned from the Silent City and went to Fairchild Manor, Josie sat out of training, and when she and Michael went swimming they contented themselves with floating beneath the shade of a willow tree. Occasionally, Michael found his hand brushing the front of Josie's stomach beneath the water. They had conceived a child together, and whether they had a boy or a girl, Michael was happy to become a father.

The night of the full moon and Michael's initiation started out as a hot, dry day. In the evening Valentine grilled a large dinner as the Circle assembled. Michael was sitting on the corner of the patio when Robert walked over and sat beside him, pressing against his arm.

"Be careful tonight, please?" Robert asked.

The entire day, Robert had been closer than usual. He hadn't pulled Maryse into the woods and had, in fact, kept his distance from her. In the morning, Robert and Michael had lightly sparred together, hand to hand, as Valentine had coached them. It wasn't like the fights that Robert fought with Luke or Hodge, these matches felt choreographed even if they weren't. Michael knew Robert's every move a second before he made it. When Michael dodged Robert's hand, stepping around him, his back grazing Robert's shoulder, the act felt intimate, the way it should have. When Robert allowed Michael to pin him to the ground, signaling the end of their match, he had looked up at Michael, right into his eyes, catching his breath.

It had been so very long since training with Robert felt the way it was supposed to.

"He's not going to kill me," Michael said. "He just wants me to prove myself worthy, the same way he wanted you to prove yourself. I'll do what he wants and be home before dawn." Michael was staying the night at Fairchild Manor, while Robert and Maryse would escort Josie home to Wayland Manor.

Robert looked across the patio, at Maryse, Jocelyn, Celine, and Josie gathered together. Josie braided Maryse's hair as they talked, though she looked over and met Michael's eyes, giving him a shy smile.

"Please?" Robert asked.

"I promise," Michael said.

The patio door slid open and Luke stepped outside dressed in riding clothes. He was followed by Stephen, who appeared to be a few shades tanner, not to mention ten pounds heavier, from his honeymoon to Venice, where he had spent the last six weeks.

"Welcome to Fairchild Manor," Valentine said, walking over. He kissed Luke on the cheek and clasped Stephen's hand. Stephen smiled a greeting before he noticed Celine, and kept his eyes on her a moment too long. "I thought your wife was going to attend."

"She wasn't feeling well," Stephen said, meeting Valentine's eyes. "She was worn out from our trip, and-"

"So she's pregnant?" Valentine asked. Luke chuckled and Stephen turned away, finally noticing Michael. "You can tell us. We're family here, Stephen."

"She's about three months along, due in January," Stephen said.

"Congratulations!" Valentine exclaimed. "It would seem as though our little Circle is expanding one way or another. Isn't it, Michael?" Michael felt Robert tense beside him. "Unless I'm mistaken. Am I?"

"Are you?" Michael asked, buying time. He saw Josie across the patio, words frozen on her lips. Maryse was beside her, glaring daggers first at Robert, and then at Michael.

"What's the matter, Michael? You don't like being called out in front of the entire group?" Valentine asked. In that moment a seed of hatred took root in Michael. It was a small seed but still there, poisoning Michael's thoughts. "You can tell us. We're all family here."

"Tell us what?" Robert asked.

"We're having a baby," Michael said. "Josie. She's pregnant. Due in March." There were so many other people Michael had wanted to tell before the Circle but the secret suddenly was out in the open for all to see. Robert took a sip of his beer and Michael felt cool air in the place where Robert's arm had been.

"It's wonderful news," Valentine said, clapping his hands. "I'm sure Maryse and Robert will be expecting before long. Won't you, Robert?"

"If luck is on our side," Robert said, his voice tense. "If you'll excuse me…" He stood up and walked inside the house. Every good feeling Michael had towards Robert dissolved, leaving behind the aching sadness of loss.

"Jocelyn and I have wonderful news as well," Valentine said. "Darling?" Jocelyn turned her head at the sound of her name, scanning the faces of those around her. She stood up, smiling nervously, and nodded.

"We've kept it quiet for a while now, but, Valentine and I are going to have a baby boy," Jocelyn said. Josie jumped to her feet and gave Jocelyn a hug, which prompted Maryse to give up her own congratulations.

Maryse had already rebounded, Michael noticed. She was as icy as she had been in school, always letting people believe that nothing could hurt her. Even when it was clear that she had been unsuccessful in conceiving a child as quickly as Josie and Michael had, Maryse let Robert take the brunt of the scorn. Maryse wasn't the one who had gone into the house to escape the Circle's scrutiny; she was the one still on the patio, pretending that she couldn't care any less.

Not everyone was congratulating Jocelyn, who was by now pulling her dress tight to show her stomach. Celine was standing beside her, looking at Luke, who was focused solely on Jocelyn, pain in his dark brown eyes as he came to a conclusion about his friend he must have long since suspected.

Jocelyn and Luke had grown up and attended school together, like Josie and Michael had, yet Luke had been from a dishonorable family, plagued by rumors. Luke was seen the same as Amatis was, a good person, sure, and a brave shadowhunter, of course, but the last man a father would want his daughter to marry. Michael doubted that Jocelyn had ever seen Luke as more than just a friend.

"Congratulations, to the both of you. I am…" Luke began, his voice flat. "I am so happy for you both."

"Thank you, brother," Valentine said. He kissed Luke again on the cheek and clasped his hand tightly. Michael looked over at Josie, wanting to go home, but needing to stay. After all, his initiation was on the horizon.

After the meal was finished, Michael lent a hand in preparing for the meeting. He was in the kitchen placing glasses on a tray of refreshments when Valentine walked in and got a book of matches from the drawer beside the sink. He struck a match and lit a candle before placing it on the tray.

"So, are you expecting a boy or a girl?" Valentine asked. Michael saw a burst of light outside and noticed that a bonfire had been lit. Robert was standing beside the fire pit, his arms folded, his back to the house. Since the announcements, they had maintained a chilly distance with one another. Robert could be feeling any number of things right now and the worst part was, Michael couldn't tell what those things were.

"We want to be surprised," Michael said, still watching Robert. Luke was standing beside him, and as Michael watched, Robert bumped into Luke and laughed, causing Luke to nudge him and laugh as well. It was a game Robert and Michael had played their entire lives, trying to throw the other off balance, finding yet another way to touch and connect that never came across as suspicious. Michael missed the easy going camaraderie that he and Robert had grown up with. At some point in their lives, they started to hurt one another, and couldn't seem to stop.

"But this could be your son…" Valentine began.

"Or my daughter," Michael said. "We just want a healthy baby. Daughter or son, I don't care, just as long as he or she is healthy."

"There is no harm in knowing," Valentine said.

"There is no harm in being surprised either," Michael said. "How did you know Josie was pregnant?"

"You aren't the only one who is perceptive," Valentine replied. "You haven't left Josie's side since you got here this morning. Either the sex is good, or the sex is really good." Michael rolled his eyes. "You're a newlywed. Embrace it. You're going to have a baby with a girl you're crazy about, and you're married to her."

"We weren't trying," Michael said. "We were being careful."

"All the best things in life show up when you least expect them," Valentine said. "Careful, Michael. You don't want people to think you aren't happy about this. Something could happen, and then how will you feel?" Michael clamped his jaw shut as Valentine opened the back door for him. "One more thing. Don't drink the tea tonight. There are herbs in it, and you need to be sharp for your initiation."

They went back outside to the patio, and after putting the pitcher of tea down on the table, Michael walked out to the bonfire. Robert and Luke were talking and laughing softly. Stephen was lingering on the other side of the fire, sneaking peaks at Celine, who sipped a glass of wine and talked with Maryse, not even looking Stephen's way.

"Robbie, can I talk to you?" Michael asked. He reached out and touched Robert's hand. Robert allowed the touch and sighed before walking away from the fire. Michael followed after him. He was at once reminded of the day Robert had revealed that he and Maryse had eloped, and how hurt he had been. "I'm sorry. I should have told you right away."

"I don't even care," Robert said, turning back to Michael. He stumbled on his feet, a beer in his hand. He'd been drinking most of the afternoon and Michael could smell it on his breath and skin. "You're happy about this, aren't you? You wanted this."

"Not right away!" Michael said, quietly. "We were going to wait…"

"I don't even care," Robert repeated. "You weren't trying to prevent it either. You knocked up your perfect wife. Congratulations! You did what you were supposed to, the right way, again."

"I don't know what happened," Michael said. "Robert, if you are hurt, I am sorry. Please know, I didn't plan on this. It just happened." Maybe it had been the fact that Stephen and Amatis were expecting, but Michael hadn't thought that he and Josie would be expecting little more than a month after they got married. He hadn't been irresponsible, but then, he couldn't vouch for the nights that he and Josie had returned to Wayland Manor and stayed up half the night together, their inhibitions lowered and their desire for one another unfathomable. Those nights were always blurry memories in the morning.

"I don't care," Robert said again, and headed back for the patio, leaving Michael in the fading daylight.

When it was time for the meeting Michael and Josie sat on one side of the Circle, Robert and Maryse on the other. Luke took his usual seat at Valentine's right hand side, with Hodge at his left, and Stephen ended up on a cushion beside Michael, with Celine beside him. For all of Stephen's interest in Celine, he barely spoke to her, and she sat beside him, her back straight, her eyes on Luke.

The sun was nearly gone from the sky when Valentine started to speak. Much of what he said was a repeat of what he had said at the bakery, and some of it was new. If anything, Valentine was more fixated on the dwindling numbers of Shadowhunters born every year. There had to be a way to make more Shadowhunters beyond the more traditional ways. If the Clave allowed the Mortal Cup to be used more, the dwindling numbers could easily be remedied in a generation. It was all the Clave's fault for limiting such things. If the Clave would only relax some of the laws and actually want to change the course of history, they could, but they didn't.

Intermixed with Valentine's usual diatribe were reports of awful Shadowhunter deaths from all over the world. These deaths were not caused by demons but rather by downworlders. Several Shadowhunters had been killed by vampires in the Netherlands during a routine patrol of the city. An Institute had been raided by vampires in Portugal, with all of the Institute's occupants being killed in the skirmish. There were things the Clave was slow to report, if they reported it at all. It made Shadowhunters look weak to admit their mortality in the face of Downworlders. Shadowhunters weren't given a level playing field. They might have been blessed with Angelic powers, but they still bled like men, and still died the way humans did.

"And you all recall what happened to my parents," Valentine said, poking at the fire as the logs burned low. A breeze rustled the leaves of a nearby tree as far away, thunder rolled. Clouds slid across the moon. Beside Michael, Stephen shivered and brushed against him, giving him goose bumps. Michael pressed against him and Stephen pressed back, giving warmth. Celine reached up and rubbed at her arms, the thin dress she was wearing no match for the sudden drop in temperature. A storm was coming.

"They did nothing," Valentine said. "One night wolves came to them and killed my parents. It was a week before the Clave investigated and found their bodies. A week. Had Celine not been in France, she might have died as well." Celine nodded and Stephen looked over at her, moving away from Michael, robbing him of the warmth that he had been providing. "The creatures that killed my parents deserve to die and yet they live. I want them to die. Who will help me exact the justice the Clave will not?" Across the fire, Robert's hand raised, followed by Maryse and the Pangborns. Luke's hand went up next, and Valentine gave Michael a look before he raised his hand. He couldn't disagree with the Circle, he couldn't dare question Valentine's desire. He raised his hand and felt wrong.

* * *

When the last Circle member had left, Michael went inside, dressed in gear, and packed his weapons, then met Valentine on the patio. Valentine didn't speak, instead, he stepped off the patio and headed into the woods, with Michael following after. For nearly an hour they walked, the forest around them growing thicker with trees the further they got from Fairchild Manor, the light of the full moon overhead the only light they had. Midway through the hike, Michael stopped and drew a night vision rune on his neck which helped some. Valentine led the way, letting branches occasionally slap Michael in the face as they walked. In time, they stopped for water beside a bubbling spring. The forest retained the heat of the day, with hardly any breeze to move the thick, still air around. Valentine drank water from his hands and dumped some onto his head before standing up.

"You will swear to absolute secrecy. You must not speak of anything that happens tonight. Not to Robert, not to your wife, and to no one else in The Circle. Am I understood?" Valentine asked.

"As you wish," Michael said. "What is the reason for the initiations?"

"You went through year of schooling before the Clave accepted you, didn't you?" Valentine asked.

"That's the Clave," Michael said. Rarely did they just admit Shadowhunters into the day to day operations of the Clave.

"Follow me and one day, the Circle will be the Clave," Valentine said. "Initiations serve a simple purpose. It unites us all under a common experience. It fosters intimacy. It's going to bring you closer to Robert, mark my words." Valentine took another drink of water before heading off again, with Michael catching up.

"Robert and I are plenty close enough," Michael said.

"Not from what I've seen," Valentine said. "All relationships have rough patches. Robert is just jealous of you, and hurt about you not telling him about Josie's pregnancy."

"That's just Robert," Michael said, shoving a branch out of his way. "He wants me to tell him everything but I don't feel the same about him. I don't care what he and Maryse do. I hope they have a baby, of course, but I don't ask about Maryse, and she doesn't ask about me. My marriage has nothing to do with them. Some things have to stay sacred."

"Do you mean things in your marriage have to stay sacred?" Valentine asked.

"Yeah. Josie and I are married. Of course we are going to do many things together that Robert and I won't do together," Michael said. "Robert gets to be my parabatai. Josie gets to have children with me and do other things with me, things Robert doesn't get to do."

"Rumor has it you don't like kissing men," Valentine mused.

"How do you know?" Michael asked.

"Hodge is a most faithful servant of mine," Valentine said. "Now. Rumor has it-"

"I don't like kissing people who aren't my wife," Michael said. He heard Valentine chuckle softly. "Robert and I are fine. We just need to figure out who we are to one another." A twig sliced at Michael's cheek and the cut burned as sweat dripped into it. Valentine smiled.

"Luke's never going to get married," he said. "Some men only have one woman who they would move the world for. That sort of thing is problematic when the woman they love is married to someone else."

They stepped into a clearing which contained rocks and a small spring. Valentine sat down on a rock with a sigh as Michael looked around. It had to be close to midnight by now, with the moon high above them, occasionally obscured by clouds. The trees grew together, black in the places where the moonlight could not reach.

"You know about Luke and Jocelyn?" Michael asked. He was reminded of what Valentine had said earlier. _You aren't the only one who is perceptive._

"I know everything about my parabatai and my wife," Valentine said. "Luke was like you. He never gave himself any credit. He's weak. He will pay the price, and perhaps, so will you."

Michael heard a noise just outside of the clearing and drew a sword, his eyes darting around the trees, Valentine's words lost on him. He heard a branch snap behind him and he spun around, seeing Valentine out of the corner of his eye as he melted into the trees. Heavy footfalls drew closer, surrounding the clearing, as the rest of the woods fell silent. In the distance, the sky rumbled and the hairs on the back of Michael's neck stood up. He was in danger and he had no idea why.

"Good luck, Michael," Valentine said, from a place where Michael could no longer see him. The foot falls got louder and heavier, drawing closer and closer.

"What did you do?" Michael asked, his words swallowed up by the forest. He drew a sword and scanned the surrounding trees, seeing nothing. "What did you do!?"

He got his answer in the form of a loud crash of falling trees. Something solid and hot slammed into Michael, knocking him to the ground and ripping the breath from his lungs. His sword flew from his hand and landed some distance away. He looked up and found a reason to scream.

A werewolf stood over him, pressing him down into the soft forest floor with two paws that were each the size of Michael's hands. The wolf's claws dug into his chest, tearing into the skin over his heart. The wolf was blind in one eye, a jagged scar crossing that side of his face, and it's snout was burnt. Fur was missing around it's neck, as if it had been tied up for a very long period of time, and bits of silver flecked it's coat, burning the skin beneath it. The wolf opened it's mouth, it's hot breath smelling like blood as it brought it's teeth to Michael's neck.

Then suddenly, Michael was free as the wolf fell to the side, making a pained noise, an arrow buried in it's back. Michael scrambled to his feet and pulled his long sword from the holder across his back. Valentine stood across the clearing, a bow in his hands, another arrow already nocked. He gave Michael a nod just before the wolf slammed into him again.

Michael was roughly knocked against a tree and pinned there, bringing him close to the spring. If he was shoved into the water he was as good as dead. All it took was the wolf standing on him again, holding him under, for all the air to be gone from his lungs as he drowned in a few inches of water. He stabbed with his sword but only succeeded into cutting into the wolf's shoulder. The wolf clawed at him, pulling Michael back to the ground, it's jaws wide open, trying to find a part of Michael's body to bite down upon. Michael struggled away, brought his sword up, and stabbed the wolf in the chest, but the wolf brought his claws up, striking at Michael's face. This time, Michael buried his sword into the wolf's chest, dealing a fatal blow.

The wolf hit the ground, it's breaths sounding surprisingly human as the crash of battle suddenly dissolved. Michael dropped his sword and looked down at his chest, to the growing patch of red over his heart. He whimpered and fell to the ground beside the wolf, thinking of Josie and the baby and his parents and Robert, yes, Robert, who had to have felt this, who had to have known that his parabatai was in danger. Beside him, the wolf's breathes came more and more laboriously. The wolf shifted into the form of a naked boy a year or so younger than Michael and took a breath it never exhaled.

The darkness surrounding the clearing descended upon Michael and pulled him under.

When Michael opened his eyes again, a thick, syrupy liquid had just touched his tongue, and he choked on it, though a hand clamped over his mouth and forced him to swallow. Michael struggled away, climbing to his feet, seeing a flat stomach with barely any hair on it, the body of a boy with fresh stab wounds and old scars across his face and chest. This was a wolf that wanted to kill him; this was just a boy. Michael doubled over and vomited, feeling the thick syrup in his mouth, trying to choke him.

"I thought he was going to kill you," Valentine said, breathless. "You're hurt, Michael." The cut on Michael's face throbbed in time with the wound over his heart, and he felt as if he were shaking uncontrollably. His knees went out and he pitched forward, falling to the ground again.

The last thing Michael remembered was hands beneath him, lifting him up, and the face of a boy, dead at Michael's own hands, still on the forest floor, already forgotten.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading!The next two chapters are short so you should get two chapters in the course of the week. **

**Teaser: **

For the second time, Michael looked up into the cold eyes of Emil Pangborn, just before Emil turned away, heading back upstairs.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who favorited this story. I appreciate it very much. Enjoy this chapter. I will say that TERRIBLE THINGS HAPPEN IN THIS STORY starting in this chapter and you have been warned. I will give various warnings if something truly awful is going to happen. Thank you for reading!**

**Warning: Trigger warning for suicide of a non- main character.**

**Credit for the loyalty oath of the Circle goes to Cassandra Clare. Please see Chapter 1 for the disclaimer to this story.**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

When Michael's eyes opened again he saw a blinding light that made him dizzy. He closed his eyes, feeling more hung over than he had ever felt before. His skin was oily with sweat and the mattress beneath him was soaked. He was freezing cold and heard the sound of dripping water just before a hot cloth touched his chest, causing him to jerk away. He felt a cool, soft hand grip his arm, holding him stationary, and he looked up into the hazel eyes of Celine Montclaire.

"Let me go," Michael said. Celine lifted her hand very deliberately and Michael sat up, wincing when he felt the wound on his chest tug at the skin, feeling as if it might tear. He looked down and saw four deep claw marks over his heart, plus a fifth one that cut all the way to bone.

"You have a fever from the iratze. I'm just trying to make you comfortable," Celine said. She dropped the cloth into a basin of water that was tinged pink and pushed her hair from her face. Tonight she was dressed in a short nightgown with a silk robe over it. Michael stole a glance at the wall, hoping for a window to judge the time, but the room had none.

"Thank you," Michael said. "I can take care of myself. You should go." He climbed out of bed and looked down, shivering, relieved he was at least dressed in a pair of boxer shorts that clung to his legs. He placed a hand on Celine's arm. "Come. Now." The last thing Michael wanted was for Celine to be here any longer, and to see him as weak.

"Let me help you," Celine said. "You're hurt." She looked him over, worried.

"I want you out of here, now," Michael said. He gripped her arm and gave it a tug, then stumbled backwards when she jerked away, raising her other hand to slap him.

"Have a little respect. I'm not here because I want to be," Celine snapped.

"Then why are you here?" Michael asked.

Celine folder her arms across her stomach and purposely did not make eye contact. "There is no need for you to treat me this way. I'm not interested in you, so get over yourself."

"Well, I'm not interested in you either," Michael said, walking to the door. "Don't think for a second that I don't see how you look at Luke. You know, you aren't the first girl to have feelings for her brother's parabatai." Celine followed, her eyes hurt and angry, and stopped before she got to the door.

"You don't know the first thing about me," Celine said, and left the room.

As soon as she was gone, Michael darted to the bathroom to be sick, then soaked in a bathtub full of ice cold water before finally passing out, face down, on the cold tile floor. His last thought before the blackness was of the wolf that had attacked him, who Michael had killed. Tonight there was a family out there, perhaps, whose son would never come home. Michael would never be able to fully accept the blood of another on his hands, but maybe Valentine was right. If they were willing to attack without first being threatened, maybe werewolves and vampires and all of the hellish creatures that the Angel had not blessed did deserve to die.

* * *

When he woke up hours later, the fever was gone, and he was back in bed. There was a fresh iratze on his chest, and Robert was half sprawled on the bed, his fingers laced with Michael's as he slept. Michael reached over and traced a knuckle over Robert's cheek and Robert woke up, his eyes opening and his lips parting as he lifted his head.

"You came to me," Michael whispered.

"I couldn't stay away," Robert said. He ran a hand over Michael's chest, careful of the wounds that were still healing. "I heard about the wolf, how it just attacked you. You could have died, Michael." Michael closed his eyes and thought back to the night before, of the wolf and Valentine with his bow. Valentine could have killed the wolf, but that battle had belonged to Michael.

Michael felt Robert's hand clasp his, and then Robert was kissing his knuckles. Michael looked over to see Robert's eyes tightly closed, the same as he had always been when they were younger, training, and he was hurt bad enough to warrant tears. All of those times, much like this time, Robert refused to cry.

"I didn't," Michael said. "You would know if I did."

"You could have been killed!" Robert exclaimed. "Michael. I'm so sorry about last night. I didn't mean to not be happy for you and Josie. I am happy. I just thought you would have told me."

"I wasn't sure how to," Michael said. "We didn't want to jinx it. It's so early on. Anything could happen."

"I'm happy for you," Robert said. "You're going to be an amazing father Michael. I'm happy it happened to you first. I'm sorry for the way I was."

"I forgive you," Michael said, and squeezed Robert's hand.

It was early in the afternoon and a storm was brewing on the horizon when Michael knelt beside the lake behind Fairchild Manor in the presence of Luke, Valentine, Hodge, and Robert. As the wind picked up and the air grew cold, Michael repeated Valentine's words back to him.

"_I hereby render unconditional obedience to the Circle and it's principles. I will be ready to risk my life at any time for the Circle, in order to preserve the purity of the bloodlines of Idris, and for the mortal world with whose safety we are charged,_" Michael said, and he closed his eyes as Valentine dropped the amulet over his head.

* * *

Two weeks after Michael's initiation, he stood in front of a locker in a room at the Gard. He had interviewed for, and got, the job Valentine had offered, and began working twelve hour shifts four nights a week patrolling the prison cells beneath the Gard. His job was to watch over the werewolves, vampires, warlocks, faeries, and Shadowhunters who disobeyed either the Law or the Accords and had been sentenced to prison either as punishment, or to await sentencing for their crime.

Robert took a job with the Gard as well and appeared to be better suited for the task than Michael, who had never seen himself as breathing the same air as those who had committed crimes against the Clave. On Robert's first night of work, there was a brawl between a werewolf and a guard. It was Robert who clubbed the werewolf on the back of the head, knocking it unconscious and saving the guard from injury. Michael had stood by, shocked and frightened; Robert had acted without a second thought.

The prison reminded Michael of his days at the Academy. Everyone working in the prison lived to serve the Clave while also despising those they were charged with guarding. It was a place where the members of the Circle would thrive. Michael learned quickly that the laws above ground were different than the laws of the prison, and that almost everything was interpreted differently. Robert was never questioned for the incident with the werewolf. Instead, he was praised. Down in the prison, while the Accords remained in place, it was every man for himself.

The prison was underground, and composed of levels, stacked one on top of the other, with each level devoted to a different species. The ceilings were low and the hallways tight, with little more than a shoulder's width between the wall and the metal door of cell. The only light came from witch light sconces set into the walls and from the witch light stones the guards carried. There were times when the prison was loud and there were times when it was unearthly quiet with only the sound of footsteps to be heard.

Robert had never liked tight spaces, and had always lived in fear of drowning or being buried alive, and had lasted only one more night in the prison before a panic attack sent him back towards the light. Michael had chased after him, begging him to calm down, but Robert hadn't heard him. He had promptly resigned from the prison in the middle of his shift.

Not that Michael minded too terribly. Without Robert, Michael was able to focus on his set list of tasks in the prison, and on his fourth night, just before his shift was to begin, Stephen had walked into the locker room dressed in the navy blue gear worn by all the prison guards. The four C's of the Clave were embroidered in silver thread over the left breast pocket of his jacket, and silver buttons marched down the front of it. A weapons belt was around his hips and contained the only weapons the guards were permitted to carry, which were a dagger made of silver and iron hand cuffs.

On this night, Stephen walked into the locker room and gave Michael a smile as he dropped a lunch bag into his locker. Michael smiled and handed him another bag. It had been two weeks since Michael had begun work at the prison, and one week for Stephen. July had given way to August yet still the heat of summer persisted, turning the air in the prison stale and thick and making the damp ends of Stephen's hair curl.

"You shouldn't have," Stephen mumbled.

"Josie made extra," Michael said, not mentioning that Josie had made extra food since the day after Stephen's first night, when Michael had seen that Stephen only brought an apple and a sandwich on stale bread for his meal. After that, Michael began supplementing Stephen's lunches, having noticed that Stephen had lost all of the weight he must have gained on his honeymoon. He had dark circles beneath his eyes. Stephen wasn't the carefree boy he had been in school; he was different now. Sometimes he lost himself in his own thoughts and looked off into the distance, his expression that of someone who had too much on his mind.

Stephen had been initiated into the Circle the night after Michael had, and they hadn't discussed their initiations, having promised Valentine they wouldn't. Still, Michael saw Stephen's amulet at the end of their first night of working together. They had been miserably hot and had wasted no time getting out of their uniforms once their shift was over. Michael had glanced over as Stephen wiggled out of his shirt and saw the golden amulet resting against the tan skin of Stephen's chest. He also saw a long scar running down the inside of his forearm, and knew better than to ask where it came from.

"Josie Wayland must certainly be an angel, sent on high," Stephen said. "How is she doing, by the way?"

"She's sick," Michael said. "Every morning, anyway." That had been a treat to wake up to, his lovely wife miserably sick in the bathroom but insisting she was fine. By mid afternoon she would rebound enough to nap in the room off the back of the house, dozing among the roses and morning glories that reached for sunlight. "We told my parents that we are expecting, so she is in very good hands."

His mother had begun cooking again, making Josie tea and soup to help ease her nausea. At best guess Josie was two months along and according to the pregnancy books she was reading, the baby was the size of a kidney bean. "Oh. And she's craving sweets at night. I've promised to bring her home something from Goody's after my shift." That was, if Michael didn't eat what he had bought for Josie on his hour ride home from the prison. "How is Amatis?"

"Fine," Stephen said. He closed the door to his locker. "Different. Not the way she was when we got married. I think she's angry about the Circle. She doesn't like it, you know. Never has."

"That seems odd, being that you and Luke are both involved in the Circle," Michael said. He left the room with Stephen following, and they began down a set of steps to a lower level. Their first order of business was to provide meals to the prison's occupants. Tonight it was their turn to feed the few Shadowhunter prisoners being held in the prison.

"Valentine has always rubbed her the wrong way, ever since he and Luke got together. Amatis never approved of them swearing as parabatai. She said they were two different people," Stephen said. "I see that, I guess. Luke wouldn't hurt a fly, and well, Valentine…" One of Michael's last memories of Valentine had been of him eagerly watching Robert and Luke spar. Valentine had an unquenchable bloodlust and Luke didn't. "You are Robert seem better together."

"We try to complement one another," Michael said. "So things are rough at home?"

"It's nothing," Stephen said, shaking his head. "I'm sure Amatis will get over it."

"You have to live with her, you know," Michael said. "This is your wife. The mother of your child." If Josie was ever upset about something, Michael made certain to make it right. If Josie opposed the Circle, Michael would have found out why and then worked with her to decide what to do next.

"I know she's my wife," Stephen said quickly. "It's probably just the pregnancy making her this way. We are living in a tiny house I can barely afford because I have no money of my own, this summer has been unbearably hot, and we are having a baby in less than five months," Stephen replied. "Things are a little tense, but we are fine. I love my wife."

They fell silent after collecting the meals for the Shadowhunters and going to the level where they were kept. This was a place no prison guard liked to be, because with just one twist of fate, any one of them could end up behind the cold iron bars of the cells. Only a few Shadowhunters were held in the prison. Those who had committed worse crimes were taken to the Silent City and those who committed unspeakable crimes were either put to death, their bones interred in unmarked graves in a necropolis on the western side of Idris, or had their runes stripped and their memories obliterated with magic before they were cast out.

Somewhere in the prison, far off, was a scream that echoed off the walls before it was cut off as abruptly as it began. Stephen stepped closer to Michael, the hilt of his dagger brushing against Michael's hip. Sometimes the sound was worse than the noise, because it meant that something out of the ordinary was happening. On one of his first nights in the prison, Michael had witnessed a guard pressing his iron handcuffs to a faerie's hand as she had reached out of her cell door, burning her as punishment. Some of the guards were more mean spirited than others and some let their power and position go to their heads. Some enjoyed torturing the prisoners simply because they could.

Every night on the Shadowhunter level was the same. Michael would hold the witch light while Stephen pushed a plate of food beneath the door. Half of the time the cell holding the Shadowhunter seemed unoccupied, since the prisoners rarely, if ever, dared to look another Shadowhunter in the eye.

There were rumors of what these Shadowhunters had done. One of them had killed his wife, another had defied the law and lived among the mundanes, making no secret that he was Nephilim. The third was a man a few years older than Michael who came to the door every time someone walked by and asked, earnestly, when he might be able to leave. He was clearly touched with lunacy, Michael noted, and the Clave had never been sure of what to do with those not of sound mind. The fourth Shadowhunter was rumored to have loved his parabatai improperly, and rather than face exile, had volunteered to be placed in prison, to never see the light of day again.

On this night a fifth shadowhunter was brought in with his hands cuffed behind his back as he stared down at the floor, his dark, nearly black hair covering his eyes. He seemed familiar, and when he lifted his eyes, Michael saw that it was Arin Penhallow, who had graduated the year before Stephen and Michael. He was roughly tossed into a cell by another guard, who slammed the door shut.

"And tomorrow, you'll face the sword, you treasonous bastard," the guard said. "Wayland. Let this one starve. Maybe that will loosen his tongue." For the second time, Michael looked up into the cold eyes of Emil Pangborn, just before Emil turned away, heading back upstairs.

Michael stopped outside the Shadowhunter's cell and looked in to find the young man carefully picking himself up off the floor. The Penhallows were a well known family, mainly because there were so many of them. Arin was one of ten brothers and sisters. He had been a good student, always studying and scoring highly on tests, and was one of the last people Michael could ever see as charged with treason. Arin was simply too quiet to ever speak out against the Clave.

As Michael and Stephen watched, Arin brushed himself off, then pulled a gold chain out from beneath his shirt. He took it off his neck and held it above his head before opening his mouth and dropping the gold amulet down his throat. Michael couldn't see what was on the amulet, or, he didn't want to admit that it was the same as the one he wore around his own neck.

"Don't do that," Stephen said quickly. He moved to open the door.

"It's been nice knowing you both," Arin said, just before he began to choke. He opened his hand, revealing a tiny white tablet he then dropped into his mouth.

"NO!" Michael exclaimed. He pulled the cell door open just as Arin hit the floor. Black fluid drained from his mouth as he choked and gagged, his face turning red, then blue. Stephen screamed for another guard and Michael looked to his right, down the hallway that Emil had gone down. When he looked back, he saw all of the life dissolve from Arin Penhallow's eyes.

There was nothing Stephen and Michael could say that would change the mind of the Clave. Suicide was forbidden and Arin had killed himself. He wouldn't be burned at sunrise, his ashes spread in the Silent City with the other Shadowhunters. Instead, his body would be buried after the sun rose at the crossroads of Alicante, along with the only piece of evidence that would ever tie him to the Circle.

For the suicide, Michael and Stephen were questioned before they returned to work, spending the rest of the night pacing the halls of the vampire wing in silence before they stumbled out of the Gard as the sun rose on another morning. Stephen shivered and mentioned tea, and Michael nodded, feeling Stephen's arm around his waist as they walked passed Emil and another guard, who were placing a black shroud wrapped body onto horse drawn cart.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I might be posting twice a week from here on out because I am on a deadline. As always, reviews are welcome and are a very nice bit of encouragement for me.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading the last chapter. Please enjoy this one! I am going to try to start updating twice a week, but some encouragement would be nice. As I said before, this story compliments another Circle fic I wrote, Viva La Vida. If you are familiar with that fic, from time to time you'll see that a chapter echoes things that happened in that story, simply there were various things that lead up to the Accords that were experienced by the entire Circle, Michael included. This story focuses on Michael's point of view, so you will see his thoughts on these things. The hope of these stories, beyond me giving you all something fun to follow and read, is that they go together. As always, thank you again for reading and following. Enjoy! **

* * *

**Chapter 10**

The weekend brought with it a merciful respite from the darkness before another week passed in the prison. At the end of the week an invitation arrived at Wayland Manor, for a baby shower for Jocelyn. Michael and Josie arrived mid afternoon, though Josie was feeling weak and Michael sat with her rather than socialize with anyone. Stephen and Amatis arrived some time later, and Valentine went to greet them. Being that Amatis was noticeably pregnant, their conversation immediately turned to babies.

"So are you having a boy or a girl?" Valentine asked, as Amatis held Stephen's hand and smiled. The rest of the Circle kept their distance from her.

"We're having a boy," Amatis said with a smile. "I found out for sure the other day when I went to see the Silent Brothers."

"How exciting," Valentine said, looking Amatis up and down. "Who would have ever thought that you and Stephen would be blessed with a boy?"

"Fate was on our side, I guess," Stephen said.

"Ah yes, fate," Valentine said with a nod. "Maybe if Michael and Josie have a boy, your sons can be parabatai. It's never too soon to start discussing that." Stephen looked over at Michael, shrugging.

"That would be my son's decision," Stephen said. He never had found someone to be his parabatai, not that he ever looked. For Michael and Robert it had just felt like fate. One day, they felt right together, and had continued to build on that until they were finally ready to swear as parabatai.

Now, Robert was across the patio with his arms around Maryse as he drank a beer. Earlier in the day, he and Michael had met for training, though it was back to feeling not quite right. There was something missing between them Michael noticed, and he wasn't sure what it was.

Stephen and Amatis went to get food as Valentine returned to Jocelyn's side. Amatis whispered something to Stephen, who replied, shaking his head, looking upset, briefly. He mixed a drink and had a sip, looking over at Michael and giving him a nod. Amatis stepped away, going to the other side of the patio where Maryse, Jocelyn, and Celine already sat. Josie kissed Michael on the cheek and walked over to them as Celine gave Stephen a smile, causing Stephen to blush.

"Perceptive as ever," Valentine said, moving close to Michael. "Thank the angel, at least for your parent's sake, that you waited until after you were married to conceive a child. A baby is something you should plan for, and expect. Not conceive one afternoon two months before you get married."

"What Stephen does is none of my business," Michael said. He thought about the blurry nights with Josie, the sex against the wall and on the chair. When his own child had been conceived, was what Michael had been thinking any different from what Stephen had been thinking?

Valentine smiled and dropped a few ice cubes into a glass. "I made Mrs. Herondale a drink; do you want to give it to her?" He held out a glass of pink liquid garnished with a few cherries. Stephen was already leaned against the railing of the patio, talking with Luke.

"Sure," Michael said. He took the glass and crossed the patio. "Amatis. A drink from the alpha." Amatis giggled and took the glass, popping a cherry in her mouth before having a sip.

"It's delicious, thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," Michael replied.

"We were just talking about you and Josie not wanting to find out what you're having," Jocelyn said. She was reclining on a chaise lounge, looking pale and tired as ever. "It's driving Valentine insane. He wants to plan the future, you know. The next generation."

"A girl is just as good as a boy," Josie said.

"Yes but a boy is a boy," Amatis said. "My boy is going to be a Herondale until his dying day. You know, Stephen was the last of his line, but now he won't be." She ran a hand over her stomach, smiling. Josie nodded, giving Michael a look. Michael hadn't thought about how much more he and Stephen had in common. The Wayland family had dwindled down over the years to a few old relatives scattered around the world. A girl was just as good as a boy, yes, but a boy could ensure the Wayland name wouldn't die out. "And you've no doubt heard what's been said about the Herondales."

"Don't get me started," Michael joked.

"What's been said?" Celine asked.

"Well, some say that a long time ago, a Herondale ancestor encountered an angel, and as a result, the Herondales have all had some sort of ability that sets them apart," Amatis said. "Not that it's been proven." Michael could see how this might be true. Stephen had always glowed from within with some sort of light. He was above average in everything, without even trying.

"No one has ever seen an angel," Celine said.

"You don't know that," Amatis said. "Do you?" Maryse smiled, if not a bit uncomfortably.

There was the sound of a voice raised just above normal, and Michael turned to see Luke grab Stephen by the collar of his shirt and pull his fist back. Valentine moved quickly, grabbing Luke from behind and pulling him away from Stephen. Michael stepped between them, pushing Stephen away, though Stephen's eyes were bright, his cheeks red in the still air.

"Temper, Lucian. Temper," Valentine whispered, his lips close to Luke's ear. "He's just a boy."

"I'm a bit more than just a boy," Stephen said. Luke cursed and struggled to free himself from Valentine's grip. Valentine gave Stephen a smile, proud, the same as he had been with Robert.

"Now, Lucian, you remember what it was like being young and hot headed, don't you?" Valentine asked. "He's just seeing what you'll let him get away with." Luke pulled away from Valentine and stomped off the patio, his hands making fists. He was frustrated, Michael could tell, and more than likely confused by what seemed to be an endless string of punishments when he had done nothing wrong. "That's right, walk it off, then come back for dinner." Luke yelled something and strode off into the shadows. "Stephen. I don't condone brawling at my parties."

"I was out of line, I'm sorry. It won't happen again," Stephen said.

"I have my doubts, judging by your performances at the Academy," Valentine said. He put an arm around Stephen's shoulders and patted him on the chest. "Come and eat, son."

Dinner was served at a long picnic table. Michael sat with Josie and Stephen sat across from him, with Amatis on his right side and Celine on his left. Midway through the meal, Luke returned and sat at the end of the table, opposite Valentine, and made conversation with Robert and Maryse. Valentine made certain to keep the conversation light and ask Stephen and Michael about their jobs. After the meal, Jocelyn opened presents with Valentine, and then, everyone split off into their usual groups for more socializing.

Sometime later, as the moon rose in the sky, Celine slipped out of her dress and walked into the water, drawing everyone's eyes to her. Luke followed next, removing his pants and shirt before he stepped into the lake. The earth seemed to have absorbed the heat of the day, and when Luke called to Michael and Stephen, it was Michael who stripped off his clothes and dove into the water, splashing Celine and causing her to scream and splash back. Then Robert was in the water as well, and Maryse, all of the tension of the evening seeming to have melted away.

When Michael was finally cold he climbed from the water and walked up to a bonfire Stephen sat beside, while Amatis remained on the patio with the other wives. Michael found his pants and pulled them on as Stephen watched, then sat beside him, the warmth of the fire feeling good against his damp skin.

"I don't feel quite right swimming with Amatis here," Stephen mumbled. He had swum, before, at his last meeting, getting rid of his clothes just as easily as everyone else in the Circle had, and had stayed close to Celine for most of the evening. Michael doubted that Stephen would ever tell his wife he had been skinny dipping with a girl who wasn't her. None of them had been raised that way, to view nudity as something that didn't always lead to sex.

"It's just swimming," Michael said, nudging Stephen. So far, no one had snuck off to the woods, though it was still early. "When do we work together next?"

"Tuesday night," Stephen said. Michael adopted the same position Stephen was sitting in, by resting his weight on his hands braced behind his hips, only, he laid his left hand over Stephen's hand and then glanced up at the patio briefly. Valentine was inside the house with Hodge, and the rest of the wives were all focused on one another. With Robert and Maryse occupied, no one saw Michael lift Stephen's hand and place it over his heart, guiding his fingers over the scar that the wolf had left behind.

Stephen seemed to somehow understand. He nodded a little, looking off into the distance, getting the same expression on his face that he got whenever they were patrolling the vampire wing. Very quickly, Stephen guided Michael's hand to his wrist, to the scar that went up his forearm.

"I saw how you were with the vampires," Michael whispered. "You don't want to torture them the way the other guards do. You treat them like I treat the werewolves, like you did something awful to their kind and feel guilty about it. You aren't the only one who has killed for him," Michael whispered, his face close to Stephen's. He thought about the werewolf in the woods, and the boy he had become just before he died. He thought about fighting for his life, and taking something else's.

"It was two vampires in a clearing," Stephen whispered. "My arm… Valentine sliced it open before he pushed me towards them. They attacked me and I had to fight for my life, but I survived." Michael nodded.

"Michael!" Michael looked up to see Valentine standing on the patio and sat back, putting some distance between he and Stephen. A blush crossed Stephen's face as they focused on Valentine, both guilty as school boys at what they had been saying, and how close they were together. Valentine smirked at them. "Michael. Stephen. I need to talk to you both."

They walked up to the house and followed Valentine inside. Valentine held a glass out to Stephen. On the counter was an old volume of potions, the pages turned to an elixir for sobriety. Not all Shadowhunters had knowledge of potions, and even fewer used potions.

"Drink this. You're drunk and I want you sober," Valentine said. Stephen downed the drink before Michael grabbed his hand and pulled him from the kitchen, in pursuit of Valentine. They went down a hallway and took a set of steps downstairs to the basement. In a room at the bottom of the steps was a desk and three chairs. Valentine sat behind the desk.

"You two seem to have hit it off quite nicely," Valentine said. Stephen blushed and stepped away from Michael. "I guess there isn't a whole lot to do for 12 hours in a prison besides… getting to know one another. Which is good. You're parabatai now."

"But Robert-" Michael said. This was another thing Valentine just couldn't do when the mood struck him. The Institution of parabatai was sacred. Michael hadn't sworn to Robert in the hopes that something better would come along; he and Robert would weather the storm and come out on the other side of it stronger. Yet there was Stephen sitting beside Michael, Stephen, dear, sweet, lovely Stephen, who had been a friend for so many years, Michael had lost count, and not Robert.

"Not officially. But you're a matched team of warriors, bound together in the name of one cause. Parabatai," Valentine said.

"As you wish, Valentine," Michael said, hating himself, just a little.

"We're down here because you have each proven to me that you'll stop at nothing to accomplish what I ask of you," Valentine said. "You have scars that bind you together, and secrets to keep. You may think that what I am about to ask of you is wrong, that it shouldn't be done, but you're loyal. You won't disappoint me. I will ask you to do something, and you will do it. Right?" Valentine asked. Stephen and Michael nodded. "Good. I want you to steal the Mortal Cup."

"I beg your pardon?" Stephen asked.

The Mortal Cup was kept at the Accords Hall. The Angel Raziel had given the Mortal Cup and Sword to Jonathan Shadowhunter, who used the Instruments to make the Shadowhunters. The Mortal Cup was kept in a shrine in the Accords Hall, surrounded by candles. Each of the two known Mortal Instruments were considered sacred artifacts by the Nephilim. The Silent Brothers guarded the Mortal Sword, while the Cup was guarded 24 hours a day by two guards.

Michael knew this information because one night in the prison locker room, two other guards were discussing how nice it would be to guard the cup, rather than prisoners. Guarding the Cup was a simple job, in fact, the guard that was discussing it said that half the time, the men whose duty it was to watch the Cup were asleep on the job. None of this information would have been easy to come by, had Stephen and Michael not already worked with guards.

"How?" Michael asked.

"We're going to walk in and take it," Stephen said. "No one expects anyone to take it, so we will."

"It will teach everyone a lesson," Valentine said. He rubbed his hands together, the smirk returning to his face. "None of us are safe, not with our world the way it is."

"Why do you want the Cup?" Michael asked.

"That's information on a need to know basis," Valentine said. "Right now, Michael, you don't need to know."

* * *

The party broke up not long after Michael and Stephen came back upstairs, each unable to find words to say to one another. They were charged with stealing the Cup, and were to steal it when Valentine asked them to. Until then, they were to go about their daily lives as if they weren't plotting to steal one of the Mortal Instruments.

Michael was feeling sick by the time he returned to Josie's side. He wasn't the only one, as Amatis was feeling ill and took Stephen from the party shortly thereafter. Michael and Josie returned home and went to bed, sleeping so soundly, neither of them dreamt.

Hours later, they awoke to the sun high in the sky and a crisp knock on their bedroom door. A note had been delivered by the housekeeper. It was Michael who took it and read it, and Michael who returned to the bed and crawled in beside Josie, reaching over to place a hand on her stomach, over the place where their son or daughter was growing, bit by bit, each day.

"What is it?" Josie whispered.

"Amatis," Michael said. "She fell ill last night, according to Luke. Terribly sick. There's no explanation. She gave birth early this morning, and the baby died soon after." Josie covered her mouth with her hand as she made a low, pained noise. Michael would have been devastated if Josie had a miscarriage as early on as she was, but Amatis had been much further along, nearly 20 weeks, and had appeared to have had a perfectly normal pregnancy, up until last night.

All Michael could think about was the glass of pink juice garnished with cherries. A drink prepared by Valentine, just for Amatis, and Michael had brought it to her, handing it to her himself. Everything had been fine before she had readily taken the glass and drank from it, having no idea what it might have contained.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Here is a teaser for the next chapter!**

"Are you making the girls cry, Michael?" Valentine asked.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Enjoy! **

* * *

**Chapter 11**

The morning after receiving the note, Michael woke up long before the sun came up and went into town. He had received word from Valentine that the Circle had sent flowers for the funeral of Stephen's son. In the cool, predawn darkness of what promised to be another unbearably hot day, Michael stood in the necropolis of Alicante and covered the front steps of the Herondale mausoleum with flowers.

As far as burial places outside of the Silent City went, this mausoleum was larger than most, made of white marble carved in various places with birds in flight. The front door of it was guarded by two dragons carved out of black granite, a nod to the Herondale's Welsh heritage, and the name "Herondale" was stamped over the top of the door. An apple tree shaded the building, making it somewhat welcoming, though Michael could find no peace with this place. This was where people went when they died. This was where a child who hadn't been given the chance to live would rest.

When the flowers were finished, Michael stepped into the cool interior of the tomb. The ceiling of the mausoleum was painted a dark blue, which would only lighten as the sun rose. There were niches set into the wall with names and dates written on plaques, and a long bench ran part of the length of the room. On the wall opposite the door was a stained glass window depicting a rolling country side, and beneath this window was an open niche, it's marble cover sitting to the side, the opening looking black and infinite.

This was where the baby would be placed, in a tiny place reserved for ashes. Michael walked down to it and knelt beside the opening, then took a candle, lit it, and placed it inside the recess, lighting the stone with a soft glow. He placed a rose into the recess along with the candle, and then felt a prickle at the back of his neck and stood up, leaving the mausoleum just as a figure cloaked in a parchment gray robes walked into the front gates of the necropolis. He was followed by another man carrying a book, who was a chaplain charged with overseeing the marriages and funerals of Nephilim. Following the chaplain was a man dressed in white mourning attire, red runes staining his hands and arms. This man carried a blue blanket he held close to his chest, and his head bowed as his shoulders silently shook.

Michael didn't want to watch and he couldn't bring himself to turn away. He hurried from the Herondale tomb and found a place in among the bushes beside another tomb, where he could see a stone alter the Silent Brother had stopped beside. Stephen placed the blue blanket onto the alter and nodded. After another minute, Stephen was joined by Luke, also dressed in white, and his parents, Marcus and Imogen Herondale. The four of them stood shoulder to shoulder as a chaplain opened the book he was carrying and began to read.

Though it all, Stephen remained stoic as he stared down at the baby and listened to the chaplain. The ceremony was short and when it was over the Silent Brother placed a torch to the edge of the blanket. In seconds, the bundle ignited, burning brightly with a flame that could have only come from heaven. It was then that Stephen finally broke down, falling to his knees as he screamed, all of the pain he had bravely held inside bursting forth in a sound so agonized, it was painful to Michael's ears. Imogen knelt beside Stephen, putting an arm around him. As the sun came up on another day, Stephen clung to his mother and cried.

* * *

Somehow, Michael made it home, but he got sick twice on the way there, be it from nerves or something else. When he finally stumbled inside the manor house, he went straight upstairs to the room he had stayed in when he was younger, not wanting to be near Josie when he felt this awful.

For the rest of the day and night, Michael slept fitfully, burning with a fever one minute and shivering with chills in the next. When he was conscious he forbid Josie from coming to him, fearing for the baby, not wanting to feel even a shred of the grief he had witnessed from Stephen. He thought about the blue blanket burning, of the baby who's life had been taken away. Stephen's scream echoed in his brain and made him feel as if he were losing his mind.

It was midday of the day after the baby's funeral when Michael woke up, finally clear headed. He found his mother beside the bed, dabbing his forehead with a cool rag.

"You had us all worried," Dacia said. "We nearly called for the Silent Brothers." Michael lifted a hand and ran his palm across the claw marks on the skin over his heart. The wound was healed yet one scratch, the one that cut the deepest, had formed a scar. He thought of the wolf standing on top of him, it's teeth just inches from his neck. Had he been bit? He couldn't have been. He would have known.

Close to the scar on his chest was a dark rune, freshly drawn, for the purpose of healing. Michael ran his fingers over the rune and closed his eyes, seeing a pink, predawn sky and a dark head of hair above him.

"Robert," Michael said. His throat felt raw and he wondered if he hadn't just dreamt about screams.

"He stayed with you all night," Dacia said.

"Is Josie…?" Michael began.

"She's fine. She and your father are working on some bonsai in the atrium," Dacia said. She offered a hand to Michael and he took it, sitting up as she placed a pillow behind his back.

"I gave Amatis a drink," Michael said. "It was pink, it had cherries in it. She drank it and then…" Dacia placed a tray covered with a variety of foods on Michael's lap. There was chilled soup with a basil leaf in it, tea, and pita chips with hummus. Michael took a pita chip and ate it, not yet realizing how hungry he was. Dacia poured a cup of tea and handed it to him. "I think Valentine poisoned her."

"Why would Valentine do that?" Dacia asked. She tucked a few strands of hair behind Michael's ears, looking into his eyes. Michael thought back to the party, to Valentine's shocked expression over the revelation that Amatis was giving Stephen a son. Valentine knew far more than he ever let on. No doubt he knew what people said about Amatis, the same as he knew what was said about Stephen. It was just a question of whether or not Valentine believed those things.

"I don't know," Michael said. He felt light headed and ate another chip. Dacia went to the window and opened it, letting in a cool breeze. Sometime during the night, summer had loosened its hold on Idris. "He desires pure bloodlines."

"Who is he to judge the pureness of blood lines?" Dacia asked. She busied herself with pulling the top sheet off the bed, as well as a blanket, and dropped them into a laundry basket.

Michael thought back to his childhood spent in and around the London Institute. Stephen had always been the golden child, the one who's potential was always scrutinized. Any girl would have wanted to marry Stephen, who's position as son of the leader of the London Enclave came with perks not offered to just anyone. He could have married any girl well known in Shadowhunter high society yet he had picked Amatis, who was unremarkable, average, and had a past better forgotten.

"It's because of the baby Stephen and Amatis lost," Dacia said, "You're only worried because of Josie."

"She said her family has a history of difficult pregnancies," Michael whispered. "It's so early." Josie was barely two and a half months along.

"And she will get the best care here," Dacia said. "She will spend the next six months flat on her back if that is what it takes. You've nothing to worry about, Michael Jonathan." Michael couldn't imagine keeping Josie that still for that long. He would never dare make her miserable. If something was to happen, they would try again or adopt.

"I'm holding you too that," Michael said.

Dacia continued moving around the room, straightening things as Michael ate and watched. Dacia had always been a live wire of energy, always moving, her silken dresses floating on the wind as she danced about, humming easily, but there was something different now. It felt like Dacia was biding her time, making certain that Michael was well and strong, before she said or did anything that might threaten the calmness of the afternoon.

"What is it?" Michael asked as his mother straightened the curtains yet again. Dacia turned to him, her blue eyes wide, her mouth pinched. "Is it father? Or Josie? Or you?" Dacia walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. "I know it's something."

"It's Lucian Graymark," Dacia said. "He was killed in a werewolf attack last night. The Circle is holding a memorial for him tomorrow night, at sun down." Michael closed his eyes and thought of Amatis, who had already lost her child, and he felt sick all over again.

* * *

In the morning of the next day, Michael sat by in the kitchen as Josie stood beside the counter and mixed ingredients from a recipe she found in the book _Simple Recipes for Housewives_. It had been a wedding present from a well meaning aunt of hers. Josie rarely cooked if ever, since all of the cooking was done for her, but the memorial was pot luck, with everyone to bring something, and Josie had decided to bring a dessert she had made herself.

"I love you," Michael said, watching as she mixed sugar and flour. He walked over and put his arms around her, feeling her against him, so warm, alive, and his. She pecked his cheek before turning away, allowing his hands to find her hips. He had done nothing but mourn for the last twenty four hours but not allowed himself a brief respite, a reminder that everything could change, but some things stayed the same. "For my initiation, I killed a werewolf." He didn't mean to confess it and yet he couldn't stop himself. There couldn't have been harm in telling her, his wife. After all, he had promised her he would tell her everything.

"I know," Josie said, "Jocelyn told me."

"And you aren't angry?" Michael asked.

"You did what you had to do," Josie said. "You're alive because of what you did. How could I be angry about that?" She turned and kissed his cheek again. "I love you to."

* * *

That afternoon, Michael and Josie went to Fairchild Manor. Celine opened the door and left it open before she turned her back and walked back the hallway, dressed in a white mourning gown that drug the floor, the hem of it turning brown. In the kitchen, Michael and Josie found Maryse and Jocelyn sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea. Josie ran a hand across Jocelyn's upper back and squeezed her hand as Jocelyn nodded, her eyes closed.

It was Jocelyn who Michael felt the worst about, not Valentine. Jocelyn had been a friend to Luke for a very long time, and even Valentine had known that Luke had cared for Jocelyn. It was only logical to think that Jocelyn knew about Luke's feelings towards her, and that she had cared for him in close to the same way. Valentine had lost his parabatai, yes, but he had been mistreating Luke long before he had died, and Michael couldn't seem to muster up the same kind of sympathy that he held for Jocelyn.

"Sit, Josie, and have some tea," Jocelyn said, gesturing to the tea pot. "Michael. The men are in the dining room. You should go to them. Pay your respects to Valentine before the others arrive. Celine will take you." Michael nodded and followed Celine from the room.

Celine was such a chameleon, Michael noticed. She was always adapting to situations. On this day she wore her hair in front of her face and she hadn't bothered with makeup. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her cheeks splotchy. Michael assumed he was supposed to feel sorry for her, the little girl with the crush on the boy who would never love her, who would rather stare at her with her top off than do anything respectful with her.

"I'm so sorry for you loss," Michael said softly.

"Thank you," Celine said. "I deeply cared for Lucian. He was…" She raised a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. With her other hand, she gestured to the room at the end of the hall and darted away. Michael continued down the hall and walked into a room with a long table in the center of it. Windows lined one wall of the room, looking out over the backyard and the lake. Valentine sat at the head of the table, with Hodge at his left and Robert at his right.

"Are you making the girls cry, Michael?" Valentine asked. He was dressed in white mourning clothes, and red marks were on his arms, the runes of comfort and mourning. Michael looked back down the hallway, where Celine had gone, then gasped when Robert wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, gripping his hair in a fist as he rubbed his cheek against Michael's. Valentine looked away, staring outside, his teeth clenched and his jaw set as Robert ran a hand up Michael's spine and gently kissed his cheek. Robert didn't have to say anything; Michael knew that he was thinking about Valentine and Luke, and how Valentine had lost his parabatai. No doubt the thought of it frightened Robert to the core.

"I'm right here," Michael said. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." Robert nodded and released Michael, and together, they sat down at the table.

"Celine has taken this like an absolute child," Valentine muttered. He took a white rose from the centerpiece and began to shred it, petal by petal, making a pile before him on the polished wood table. "You know, she loved him at one time. Lucien. They were together for a little while, and it was perfect. Lucian and my sister. They could have made such beautiful babies together."

"What happened?" Michael asked.

"Jocelyn. Luke loved Jocelyn. He couldn't love Celine. They broke up. Decided they were better off friends," Valentine said. "Now he can't love anyone. He's dead. My beloved brother is dead." Michael felt Robert's hand on his knee, squeezing gently, and he reached down to lay a hand over it. Valentine crushed the petals into the table.

The house felt like a tomb, the same as Herondale mausoleum had felt. It was completely silent, with only the soft tick of a clock on the mantle to break up the silence.

"Enough about the past. We're here to discuss the future," Valentine continued. "As I would be nothing without the support of Jocelyn beside me, I will be nothing without Luke. Luke believed in the Circle. He poured his whole being into it, to make it what it is today. He was my right hand. His death is painful but we must keep moving forward." Robert nodded, looking across the table at Hodge. "The time has come for me to select a new second in command."

"You're grieving," Hodge said, "surely, you should wait. Luke has been barely gone a day. You've hardly given yourself a chance-"

"No. Time will only allow me to grieve more. It will cloud my judgment," Valentine said. "I wish to avenge Luke's death and I need someone at my side that will help me achieve those means. If I don't select someone now, then when? When will we begin to avenge his death? When is it convenient for you, Hodge?" Hodge bowed his head, shamed into submission.

"I will help you," Robert said. "You have my unwavering loyalty. Anything you ask, I will do for you."

"I know, Robert, and you are incredible in your own right, but you are far too volatile. Your moods change with the wind and while that makes a good warrior, it doesn't make a good leader. I need someone I can easily control. Someone I know who will be loyal to me and won't go against my wishes," Valentine said. Hodge smiled, lifting his head and sitting up in his chair. "Michael. I want you to be my second in command."

Michael felt Robert and Hodge's eyes land on him.

"No," Michael said.

Valentine sat back in his chair and stared at Michael, who looked back, daring Valentine to blink first. "No?" Valentine repeated. "No?"

"No," Michael said. "I'm not who you want for the job. I lack the focus you desire. My priority remains my family, as I am sure you want it to be. You can do much better than me."

"My priority remains only you, Valentine," Hodge said.

"Quiet," Valentine snapped. "Michael. I am asking you-"

"And I am telling you no," Michael said. He looked over at Robert. "Robert and I are a team. It would be wrong to split us up, and give one of us more power than the other." Robert smiled and squeezed Michael's hand. Michael forced the thought of he and Stephen from his mind. He and Stephen weren't parabatai, Valentine only wanted them to be.

"Very well," Valentine said. "I will find someone else suited to the task. As for you, Michael. The mission I gave you and Stephen? You are to complete it tomorrow night."

* * *

After a lovely dinner shared with more Circle members than Michael had expected to see, he and Robert went out to build a bonfire. For a while they didn't speak. Instead they stacked limbs into the fire pit, one on top of the other.

"Thank you, for earlier," Robert said. "You didn't want to split us up…"

"It didn't feel right," Michael said. He had been searching for reasons why Valentine would have wanted him as second in command. Robert would have been more suited to the task, with his strength and stealth, or Hodge, with his unwavering adoration of Valentine, but Michael felt nothing like a leader should and even less like Valentine's right hand man should feel.

"Well, it's for the best that neither of us were chosen," Robert said. "This seems hardly the right time to mention that things might get a little noisier around the old Lightwood Manor in, oh, seven months."

Michael glanced back at the house before he wrapped his arms around Robert and punched him in the shoulder. Robert giggled and grabbed Michael around the waist, digging his fingers into the flesh beneath Michael's ribs, pulling him close.

"I thought it was me," Robert said. "I really thought it was me, but no, it just wasn't time yet, and now it is. We're having a boy and he's going to arrive in April."

"Congratulations," Michael said, and he truly meant it. Fatherhood was something Michael knew Robert wanted to excel at. Maybe a son would give his life more purpose and direction, and perhaps bring them both back together again.

"So find out what you're having so we can plan for them to be parabatai!" Robert said.

"We want to be surprised," Michael said.

"It's a surprise, I assure you," Robert said.

A hush fell over those assembled outside. Michael stepped away from Robert and looked to the patio to see that Valentine and Jocelyn had walked outside, hand in hand. They were followed by Celine and Stephen, who had arrived earlier in the evening and had barely greeted Michael. His eyes had been swollen and red, his voice a harsh whisper.

"Go to him," Robert said, touching Michael's hand. "He needs someone." Stephen had no one to be with tonight at the memorial. Amatis hadn't come along with him, not that anyone expected her to. Michael had heard Maryse and Jocelyn talking earlier. Losing the baby had damaged Amatis, and she would be unable to have any more children.

"Thank you," Michael said. He walked across the lawn and met Stephen beside the patio. Stephen folded himself into Michael's arms.

"So tomorrow we'll meet at Goody's and then we'll go to the Accord's Hall and steal the Cup," Stephen mumbled into Michael's ear.

"We don't have to think about this now," Michael said.

"I just want to think about anything but this," Stephen said. He pulled away and looked back at the bonfire, at the scores of Shadowhunters dressed in white who gathered around it. Stephen stepped towards the fire and Michael followed after him.

Celine gave Stephen a small smile as he stepped beside her and slipped a hand around her waist, just once, briefly, his fingers tracing across her lower back. In the center of the Circle, Valentine stoked the fire until everyone had assembled.

The memorial began with Valentine giving a moving eulogy. Michael hadn't realized all that Luke and Valentine had been through. Luke had never been seen as upstanding or noble, not with his family's history. It had been Valentine who brought Luke out of his shell, who had trained him to be a soldier and not just a Shadowhunter. In turn, Luke had been the only person Valentine wanted by his side after his parents were killed.

"Some special happened the day we swore as parabatai," Valentine said, walking around the fire. "Any parabatai will tell you that the day they cross the circles of fire to join together is one of the most defining days of their lives."

Michael looked over to see Robert standing with Maryse, though Robert locked eyes with Michael and he was reminded of the day they had sworn. Robert had been scared, Michael, nervous for the both of them but eager. Neither had been prepared for the change that happened to them, that everything they did together would suddenly feel closer, and more intimate, than it had before. Now, the physical distance between them felt unbearable. It took everything in Michael not to walk up and over the fire, just to get to Robert faster.

When the eulogy was done, Valentine stoked the fire so that it burned hot and brought out an amulet he wore beneath his shirt. Michael saw the gold glint in the light of the fire, and for a moment, Valentine held the amulet up for all to see.

"This belonged to Lucian. He gave it to me before we went out on that awful night," Valentine said. "Tonight begins a new chapter for the Circle. We did not lose Lucian, he was taken from us by a savage pack of werewolves. We will no longer sit by idly and allow the Downworlders their run of the world. This is our world! We have been sworn to protect it! We will fight harder! We will avenge our fallen brother's death! We will kill anything that stands in our way!"

Valentine threw the amulet into the fire. Michael only saw a flash of light before the flames consumed the metal. Then Luke was gone, forever.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! **

**Teaser:** "Angel, please forgive me," Stephen said, "I've done terrible things."


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading, enjoy! **

* * *

**Chapter 12**

The sun was just starting to go down when Michael climbed out of bed and went to the closet to get his guard uniform. A full 24 hours had passed since they had burned Luke's amulet, and now, he and Stephen were to steal the Mortal Cup for reasons Michael still did not know.

His parents had to have known something was going on but they never asked. Even Josie had kept the dinner conversation light. Midway through dinner, the conversation had shifted to baby names, though Michael already knew what he wanted to name his son. Jonathan was his father's name and Michael's middle name, and he had always assumed that he would name his son Jonathan, to honor his own father. For a girl, they decided on Maggie Lancaster Wayland, simply because Josie's maiden name had been Lancaster. After the meal, Josie and Michael retired to their suite.

"Be careful tonight," Josie had whispered. She'd rolled over in bed and watched him in the fading sunlight. Sometime in the course of a few days her morning sickness had disappeared yet the cravings remained. Now, her face was fuller and occasionally flushed and she had begun scrutinizing herself in the mirror, eagerly awaiting any new signs of pregnancy. She was as excited to be a mother as he was to be a father.

"I promise," Michael said. He had learned when he was a child that a man's word meant something. He hadn't made promises to Josie on their wedding day because he thought he was supposed to, he made them because he knew that these were promises he would not break. "I'll be home in the morning." He crossed the room and kissed her lips before finding his boots and heading downstairs.

Michael was first to arrive at Goody's, the same bakery he and Robert had first attended a Circle meeting at. He and Stephen had agreed to meet there and wait until the appointed hour to begin their mission. For a brief, fleeting second Michael wished that Robert was with him, that Robert would be the one to lead them in stealing the Cup, though if Valentine had wanted Robert to help steal the Cup, he would have asked. This was how Valentine wanted it and Michael didn't dare want to disagree. Instead, he was paired with Stephen, who seemed eager to prove himself the same way Robert was.

To pass the time, Michael ordered one of almost everything before taking a seat at a booth towards the back of the shop. He slipped a hand in his pocket and rubbed a chalky feeling pill between his fingertips that had been given to him by Valentine. Michael hadn't needed an explanation yet Valentine offered him one this morning, when he and Stephen had met for breakfast at Fairchild Manor to receive final instructions.

"If you are caught stealing the Cup, you will be taken to prison. You will be questioned by the sword and you will reveal everything," Valentine said. A trial by sword would be excruciating but effective; anyone who held the sword in their hands was compelled to tell the truth even if doing so would land them in prison, or worse. The only way to succeed at this mission and survive was to not be caught. Michael thought back to Arin Penhallow. Had the path he had chosen been the correct one?

Over the door, the bell chimed, and Stephen stepped into the bakery. He walked back to the booth Michael was sitting in and dropped to a seat beside him, dressed in his guard uniform. This had been part of the plan, to make it look like they were headed to work, like it was any other ordinary night when it wasn't, not at all.

"Have a chocolate croissant, pumpkin," Michael said, nudging a plate over to Stephen. Stephen took the croissant on it and had a bite before having a sip of hot chocolate. A cool breeze wafted through the bakery, probably coming from the back door and the garden beyond it. The sky had been spitting rain on Michael's ride into Alicante, and he was reminded that they were entering the rainy season of hot days and cold nights before the leaves turned gold and red and everything began to die.

"Thank you," Stephen said. He finished the croissant before wrapping his hands around the mug of hot chocolate, his jaw clenched. The Stephen Michael remembered was so easy going; it was jarring to see how much he had changed since joining the Circle. Valentine had taken what little was left of Stephen's innocence and used it against him.

"Is everything alright?" Michael asked.

"Yes. No. Amatis and I had a disagreement," Stephen said. "She thinks that Valentine poisoned her. There is no way that Valentine would do such a thing. He's always going on that there aren't enough Nephilim. That we need to make more. He didn't kill my son. Isaiah. His name was Isaiah. I told her she's crazy. She's just like her mother."

Stephen sipped his hot chocolate as Michael sat by, certain that if he said anything without thinking about it, it would be the wrong thing. He and Stephen were supposed to be parabatai, a cohesive team united with one cause, and all Michael could think was that the rumor's about Amatis's mother were just rumors, and Amatis wasn't crazy at all.

But Michael couldn't think that way. He couldn't tell Stephen he had doubts, not when he wasn't sure what he doubted yet.

"The midwife said these things happen sometimes. Maybe there was something wrong with the baby. Maybe the miscarriage was a blessing in disguise," Stephen said. "Maybe it was Amatis. Maybe she's just not strong enough to bear my son." He said it so nonchalantly, as if he truly believed that not everyone was strong enough to have a son.

Michael wanted to refute this. He opened his mouth to say the words, that Amatis was as strong a woman as Jocelyn was, but then he remembered Stephen's scream as he knelt beside the pyre his son was burning on. Stephen had bore a grief Michael had no understanding of, having never lost a child of his own. If these were the things Stephen had to tell himself for the sake of comfort, who was Michael to argue with him?

"She's grieving, and so are you," Michael said. "You lost the baby, and Luke…"

"You might as well know that Valentine has asked me to be his second in command, and I accepted. If he is going to avenge Luke's death, I want to be right there with him," Stephen said.

Michael had known that passing on Valentine's offer would only open the offer up to someone else. He hadn't foreseen that person being Stephen, who had barely been a Circle member for more than two months. He had so much happening in his personal life, between Amatis losing the baby and his marriage, which was clearly on the rocks, yet Valentine had chosen to burden Stephen with the task of replacing Luke and avenging his death, not to mention whatever else Valentine had planned.

Second in command should have gone to Robert, or Hodge. Anyone but Stephen. Yet Michael saw why Valentine had chosen Stephen, because who better to go after those who hurt Luke than someone who was personally affected by his death? To everyone, Luke had been a friend, yet to Stephen, he had been Amatis's brother.

"Congratulations," Michael said, his voice hollow.

"Thank you," Stephen said. "He wants my help, leading the Circle to greatness, and he believes in me. He wants the Circle to succeed." Stephen stared down at his placemat, drumming his fingers on the table, bravado trying to cover up the doubt in his voice. "I believe in him, and I want to help him to succeed. So now, I'm second in command."

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Michael paid a hefty bill and walked with Stephen out of Goody's. They rode their horses into the center of Alicante and stopped outside of the Accord's Hall, which, despite the late hour, was lit up with shining witchlight. Michael tied his horse up and walked inside with Stephen right behind him.

The Accords Hall was used for the signing of the Accords every fifteen years. When it wasn't being used for official Clave activities, it was a place for weddings and celebrations. The first room Michael and Stephen came to was a large room with a high ceiling made of glass. Rows of chairs faced a stage and a forgotten floral arrangement was looped over a candelabra. Michael recalled a picture he had seen at Fairchild Manor of Valentine and Jocelyn dressed in wedding finery, waltzing past the blurred faces of wedding guests in this very room. They had both been smiling, Jocelyn looking up at Valentine while he was looking past her.

Beside Michael, Stephen let out a shaky breath, causing Michael to instinctively reach over to steady him. Together, they walked down a hall to a doorway where two guards stood, dressed in the same uniform that Michael and Stephen wore and each holding heavy metal swords. Beyond the guards was a room that glowed with candlelight.

"We were hoping to see the Cup. My partner wishes to pray for his family," Michael said. Stephen nodded, looking ill.

Both guards studied them before stepping aside, nodding. Michael thought he sensed something familiar about one of the guards but then he lifted a hand and shoved Stephen towards the room. In another moment, they were inside. The room was little more than a large closet with no windows. The Mortal Cup sat on a stone alter at the front of the room. On the four walls surrounding the room were shelves, and on these shelves, thousands of tiny candles flickered. Stephen knelt before the Cup, folding his hands in prayer. Michael took an unlit candle and knelt beside him.

"For Isaiah," Michael whispered, lighting the candle with the flame of another.

"Angel, please forgive me," Stephen said, "I've done terrible things."

Michael bowed his head, closing his eyes as well as a chill ripped up his spine. He thought of the morning, of breakfast shared with Stephen and Valentine, and of Valentine's grip on his shoulder as he followed Stephen out the front door. Stephen had been looking around at the woods surrounding the manor; he hadn't seen Valentine lean close to Michael's ear and whisper, "_and if this is the time you decide to reaffirm your allegiance to the Clave and fight for the side that opposes me, rest assured, your wife and child will be dead long before you return home._"

Michael wanted to chalk the threat up to just that, a threat by a man who was insane enough to steal the Mortal Cup, but then he thought of a pink beverage and girl with a questionable family history, pregnant with the child of a man whose family history was rumored to be remarkable. He thought of an ordinary pregnancy suddenly gone wrong with no explanation.

Beside Michael, Stephen was whispering. Michael opened his eyes and placed the candle on a shelf before he glanced behind them, seeing the backs of the two guards. He wrapped his hands around the stem of the Cup and lifted, certain to feel something painful that would cause him to drop the Cup, but there was only a light pulsing against his palm. He placed a replica of the Cup in its place and slipped the Mortal Cup into the satchel Stephen was carrying on his back.

"Ready?" Michael asked. Stephen nodded, his head still bowed, before he stood up and turned for the door. He nearly collapsed yet Michael was there, steadying him, keeping him upright as they walked out of the room, passed the guards.

"Gentlemen?" A guard asked, when Michael and Stephen were a few feet away. Michael froze in place, sweat dripping between his shoulder blades. He turned back, his fingers digging into Stephen's side. "Good luck with your family."

"Thank you," Stephen said. He licked his lower lip and managed a small smile. Then they were headed for the door, trying not to run, and down the front steps to where their horses were waiting.

"Let's put it back," Stephen said, looking at the door to the Accords Hall. Michael could imagine guards bursting from it, chasing them down, taking them to the Gard and throwing them into prison. He thought about the poisonous pill in his pocket and he thought about taking it, ending it all because of something Valentine asked him to do, meeting his wife in heaven, and decided not yet. There was more to be done.

"No," Michael said, "let's go."

* * *

The ride back to Fairchild Manor took nearly an hour, even at a hard gallop. Michael doubled back twice, certain they were being followed, and midway through the ride the skies opened up with a cold, driving rain. He look back often to see Stephen's hair plastered to his face, his eyes, wide and scared, watching either side of the path. When they finally arrived at Fairchild Manor, they turned their horses over to a stable boy and walked up the front steps of the house.

In contrast to the storm outside, the house was silent. Valentine wasn't there to greet them. Instead, Celine was knelt on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, scrubbing at a stain of what looked like blood.

"Is everything alright?" Michael asked. Celine looked up, past Michael, seeing Stephen.

"It's Jocelyn," Celine said. "She fell down the steps. She's alright, just bruised, but the fall put her into labor." Stephen took a sharp intake of breath. "The baby should arrive before dawn. Valentine's with her, but I am sure he'll step away for his houseguests."

"Right, of course," Michael said. He studied the blood on the floor. There was so much of it, it didn't look right. Celine smiled.

"Go on upstairs. I'll be right up to run you both hot baths," she said, looking right at Stephen.

Stephen started up first, and Michael followed after, taking the satchel from him as they climbed the stairs. They parted at the top of the stairs, with Stephen going to the room he usually stayed in and Michael going in the opposite direction, to the master bedroom. When he got to the door he sensed activity behind it and knocked. After a moment the door opened and Valentine looked out, smiling when he saw Michael. In the room, Jocelyn was in bed, propped against the pillows, her eyes closed and her face pained as she gasped, her nightgown up around her knees.

"This was not how I was expecting this evening to go," Valentine said, stepping into the hall and closing the door. "Were you successful?" Michael held the satchel out to Valentine, who took it and looked inside. "Michael. What you have done for the Circle is incredible." He leaned forward and kissed Michael's cheek. "I've never been more proud of you. I knew I could believe in you." He kissed him again, causing Michael to step backwards.

"What are you going to do with it?" Michael asked. "I stole it for you. You owe me this."

"I'm going to use it for what it is to be used for," Valentine said. "I'm going to make more Shadowhunters. I am going to raise us an army to help cleanse the earth of all the Downworlders. A new era begins tonight, Michael, and I have you to thank for it."

When Michael went down to his room he smelled orange blossom perfume, as if someone had just been there. A plate with two sandwiches and a cup of tea was on the bedside table, and pajamas were laid out on the bed. Michael stepped into the bathroom to find the bathtub steaming with water lightly scented with lavender. He stripped out of his wet clothes and climbed into the tub, fully immersing himself, feeling heat slowly returning to his cold skin.

When he woke up again the water was cold, and Michael climbed out, drying off and dressing before he ate the now stale sandwiches. When that was finished he looked at the bed and thought about sleeping but his mind was spinning for the events of the night, so he left his room and walked down the hallway, listening. He heard the sound of a baby crying somewhere far away and smiled to himself just before he stopped in front of a door that was open a crack.

Muted candlelight spilled from the room, and Michael pushed the door open a little more, stopping when he saw black runes running down a tan back and a hand braced against a headboard. He saw hips move, pressing forward, then pulling back, thrusting hard, as Stephen made love to the blonde haired girl who lay beneath him.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Review if you like. Encouragement is always appreciated. **

**Teaser: **

"You'll pay for this," Michael said, and walked out the door.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading.**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

As soon as Michael awoke the next morning, he climbed out of bed and went to dress. After seeing Stephen with Celine he had come back to his room and crawled into bed, sick with heartbreak for Amatis. He had fallen into a fitful sleep, waking up when the baby began to cry again. He could now scarcely wait to get home to Josie.

Michael opened the door to his room at the same time Stephen opened his door, and they stepped out into the hallway. For a moment they watched one another, and every agonizing moment of the night before came back in one fell swoop. There had been the bakery and the Accord's Hall, Stephen's prayer and the throb of the Mortal Cup against Michael's palm. There had been the cutting rain on the ride home, the blood on the floor, Jocelyn in pain, and finally, Stephen, naked in bed with Celine.

It was Michael who moved first, heading towards the stairs. He wasn't sure who he hated more: Himself, Stephen for having sex with Celine, Celine for going along with it despite Stephen being a married man, or Valentine, for bringing them all together.

"How did you sleep?" Stephen asked.

"How did you?" Michael replied, unable to keep silent a moment longer. "I saw you, with her!" Stephen shook his head, smiling, playing innocent. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." The smile fell from Stephen's face.

"I'm sorry, it just happened," he said.

"How does it just happen?" Michael asked. He understood that Stephen was hurting but he could think of far better ways of dealing with that pain then by cheating on his wife. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. Don't talk to me. Later maybe, but not now."

When Michael got downstairs he planned to go out the front door, get his horse, and go home, but Celine was there, saying things about breakfast, taking Stephen by the arm and guiding him towards the kitchen. They went out to the patio, where Valentine was sitting at the table, holding a blue blanket in his arms as he watched the fog burn off the lake.

"Congratulations," Michael said, walking over. Valentine moved the blanket aside to reveal a baby nestled inside of it. The baby's hair was as white blonde as Valentine's was. When he opened his eyes, Michael wasn't at all surprised to see that the baby's eyes were just as coal black as his father's.

"Thank you," Valentine said. "Do you want to hold him?" Stephen had taken a seat at the far end of the table and kept his eyes downcast.

"Sure," Michael said. He sat down beside Valentine and accepted the baby. The moment the child was in his arms, a sense of unease came over Michael, as if something was wrong with the child, though he couldn't put his finger on what. He was just a baby, a tiny, defenseless baby, yet he felt wrong.

"His name is Jonathan," Valentine said. "Jonathan Christopher."

"I didn't know…" Michael began, but then he hadn't asked what Valentine planned to name his son. He had assumed it would be something different from what he and Josie had selected. "Why Jonathan?"

"Why not?" Valentine asked. "He's named for Jonathan Shadowhunter. My Jonathan is going to change the world just as the first Jonathan did. Why shouldn't he have a name befitting of greatness?"

"My father's name is Jonathan," Michael said, softly. "If Josie and I had a boy, I was going to name him after my father."

"And what great things has your father done?" Valentine mumbled. The patio door and Celine walked out with plates full of breakfast. She placed the plates before them and checked on Jonathan before walking inside, Stephen's eyes trailing her every move.

"I think Jonathan is too common a name, nowadays," Stephen said. He added sugar to his tea and stirred it. "If you plan for your boy to change the world, you could have picked something more original."

"Is something bothering you, Stephen? You only hurl insults when you're upset," Valentine said.

"I was merely pointing out the overuse of the name in Nephilim culture," Stephen said, spots of color appearing in his cheeks. "If I have offended, I am sorry."

"No offence taken," Valentine said. He took Jonathan back and wrapped the blanket tighter around him, looking down, and smiling proudly.

They ate quietly, remarking on the weather, which had turned unseasonably cold. An early winter was predicted, one that might last until March of the following year. Throughout the meal, Stephen occasionally met Michael's eyes, but each time, Michael looked away. It would be some time before he would able to look Stephen in the eyes and not feel an overwhelming sense of shame.

"So what do you plan to use the Cup for, now that you have it?" Stephen asked.

"I'm going to make more Shadowhunters," Valentine said. "It's not as if I can count on you to make any more."

"His wife…" Michael began. He saw pain flash across Stephen's face.

"Even Robert disappointed me. Honestly, with how much he was sneaking off into the woods with Maryse, you would think…" Valentine said.

"You would think what?" Michael asked, unable to stop himself.

"That he would have conceived a child as easily as you did," Valentine said. "Honestly, Michael, sometimes I think you are the only dependable member of this Circle. At the very least you do everything I expect of you." He patted Michael on the back of the hand. "And Stephen can have more children. He just has to go about it differently than you and I." Stephen lowered his eyes. "Has something happened with you both? You aren't as cohesive as you were before. Have you had a lover's quarrel?"

"He is not my lover," Stephen snapped.

"And he is not my parabatai," Michael said. He thought of Robert and his heart ached a little. Robert had no idea what Michael had done last night. He was probably home with Maryse, decorating a nursery, discussing names, and continuing his blissfully ignorant existence.

"Well, something has come between you both, and I will place money on it having to do with a girl," Valentine said. "It's such a shame when a girl comes between parabatai, isn't it?

"It's nothing. I couldn't sleep last night," Michael said. He might have said more but Jonathan arched his back, clenching his fists as his face turned beet red. The patio door opened and Celine walked out with a baby bottle in one hand and a tea pot in the other. She handed the bottle to Valentine, who offered it to Jonathan.

"Jocelyn is awake," Celine mumbled, refilling Valentine's teacup. "You should let her feed him. She needs to, for the milk…."

"This afternoon," Valentine said. "She had such a difficult labor. She needs her rest." Celine stepped beside Michael and refilled his teacup, keeping her distance.

"Thank you," Michael said. Celine walked over to Stephen, stepping close to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Stephen kept perfectly still, his eyes glazed over as his cup was refilled. When Celine stepped away, he gasped softly and looked up at her, betrayal and pain crossing his face.

"By the Angel, Stephen, it's only Assam tea," Valentine said. He watched Celine walk inside with a predatory look in his eyes. "So it was a woman."

"I cheated on my wife," Stephen said, his voice just above a whisper. "It was a mistake. I made a mistake."

"How long have you been married?" Valentine asked.

"Four months," Stephen replied.

"You could always evoke the six month's rule," Valentine said. The six month's rule was a little known rule regarding Shadowhunter weddings. If, within six months, a marriage wasn't working out, the marriage could be annulled for any number of reasons. There was irreconcilable differences, where there was such a difference in an aspect of the marriage, it was unforgivable, and insanity, if either Shadowhunter was insane. "You know, you can annul your marriage grounds of infidelity."

"No!" Michael exclaimed. "He's going to go home and never speak about this to his wife. He's not getting divorced over one night spent with another woman."

"Everything happens for a reason," Valentine said. "If Amatis found out that he cheated, she would never forgive him. Stephen has more than enough reason to seek an annulment. Amatis can't have children; he was unfaithful… why there's barely any sort of marriage left between them, am I right?" He directed his question at Stephen.

"He's not getting divorced," Michael said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get home to my wife. Stephen…Don't do it. You can get passed this. Don't throw everything away over one night." Stephen was already looking at Valentine, nodding. He was already gone, Michael noticed, already under Valentine's spell.

Michael could take no more. He stood up and walked inside, past Celine, who was chopping vegetables at the kitchen sink. Michael had wanted to believe that Celine was innocent for the longest time. Even when he saw her topless, even when he saw her with Luke all of the times they had swam naked together, he wanted to believe she was different, that she wasn't a poisoned apple with a flawless candy coated exterior. Then Michael had seen her beneath Stephen, smiling, her hands on his chest, her fingers over the marriage rune that still bound him to another woman, and he saw her for everything she truly was.

"I didn't want to do it," Celine said, not looking up from her knife.

"You'll pay for this," Michael said, and walked out the door.

* * *

When Michael returned home from Fairchild Manor, he found Josie napping the atrium, a book on her chest, her eyes closed and her breathing steady. He had climbed onto the sofa with her, squeezing tightly, and had slept until she had nudged him awake. The next day, Michael threw himself into working in the spare bedroom that would become the baby's room, moving furniture out and bringing the crib down from the attic. He forbid Josie from helping and so she sat in a rocking chair and watched, her hands folded over her lap.

It was a few days before Josie convinced Michael to leave Wayland Manor. She wanted to meet Jonathan, and besides, Jocelyn had invited them over. When they arrived, they found that Valentine had gone into Alicante and wouldn't be back until the evening. Jocelyn was still in bed recovering from the birth, though the bed she shared with Valentine was very large, and after a summer spent in close proximity, it felt perfectly natural that Josie and Michael sit on the bed with her and talk. Michael had held Jonathan briefly, yet the feeling of unease was still there, so he passed him to Josie, who looked perfectly content with a baby in her arms.

"These chocolates are wonderful," Jocelyn said, licking her fingertips. Josie had brought Jocelyn a box of chocolates and flowers, as well as a few outfits for both her and Jonathan.

"They were imported from Belgium, so I heard," Josie said. "I figured after giving birth, you could use some calories to build your strength back up."

"I hardly remember having him," Jocelyn said. "It all happened so fast. One minute Valentine and I were in here, discussing something, and then everything else is a blur. Valentine said I fell down the steps and hit my head. The next thing I remember is my mother placing the baby in my arms, and Valentine saying that we were going to name him Jonathan." Michael could recall the night of the birth very well, namely, the blood stain on the floor at the bottom of the steps that Celine had been scrubbing. Today, the bloodstain was covered with a tasteful rug.

Jocelyn looked over at Jonathan, who moved his lips as if he were suckling as he slept. She reached for him and paused as she seemed to steel her nerve before finally lifting him up and placing him against her chest. Jonathan's eyes opened and his lips parted but no noise came out. He brought a fist to his mouth and sucked on it.

"I can step out…" Michael began, knowing how most Nephilim babies were fed. Jocelyn's cleavage was straining against her nightgown, her Circle amulet the only adornment she wore.

"He takes the bottle," Jocelyn said, lifting a bottle from her bedside table and offering it to Jonathan. "I can't get him to latch and even if he did, there's no milk. It's terribly frustrating for the both of us, but it's for the best, I suppose. This way he can bond with Valentine as well." Josie slid a hand across the bed and rested it on Michael's knee.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Josie said, as Jocelyn closed her eyes.

"It doesn't make me a bad mother?" Jocelyn asked.

"Not in the slightest," Josie said quickly. Her hand tightened on Michael's knee. "Have you taken him outside yet? Does he like it out there?"

"Celine and I took him for a walk around the lake last night," Jocelyn said, opening her eyes. "I assume he liked it. He didn't cry, but then, he never cries. Not even when he was born, Valentine told me. I never met a baby who didn't cry, even a little bit."

"He wasn't crying the night he was born?" Michael asked. He thought back to the night of Jonathan's birth, when he walked down the hallway to Stephen's room and heard a baby's wail, plain as day.

"No, not even then," Jocelyn said. She met Michael's eyes and looked away before looking back again, studying him. Jonathan raised a hand and ran his fingers over the amulet around his mother's neck, then grasped it.

"He's such a good baby," Josie said, watching Jonathan with a smile.

"You know, Michael, Stephen's moved in with us, if you wanted to see him," Jocelyn said, nodding to the door. "He asked Amatis for a divorce. They have to be separated for thirty days before the Silent Brother will grant them an annulment."

Stephen. One of the last people Michael wanted to see. He wanted to hate Stephen for what he had done, but then he was also Stephen, a good, honest friend who couldn't have possibly wanted to cheat on his wife. Stephen and Amatis loved each other far too much for Stephen to betray her. They loved each other deeply, and they took their marriage vows seriously. On their wedding day, Amatis had circled Stephen three times, promising herself to him in faithfulness, righteousness, and justice, forever. How had Stephen willingly thrown all of that away?

"I like it here," Michael said, lacing his fingers with Josie's.

"You don't like the Circle much, do you?" Jocelyn asked. Jonathan tugged on the amulet, causing Jocelyn to reach up and pry it from his fingers.

"I like the Circle just fine," Michael replied, evenly. "I support Valentine's vision for the future. I want to see the laws reformed. I even want more Shadowhunters, and more recognition for our efforts. I want a world I feel good about raising my son or daughter in. I want a brighter future for all."

"And you think stealing the Mortal Cup is the best way to go about accomplishing that?" Jocelyn asked. Michael felt his jaw drop as Josie turned to him, her eyes wide. "You can trust me, Michael. I know far more about Valentine than he assumes I do. I know you and Stephen stole the Mortal Cup, and I know that on the night that I gave birth to Jonathan, Stephen and Celine shared a bed. I know why you noticed me in the bakery the first time you saw me. It was because out of everyone in that bakery that night, you and I were the only ones questioning Valentine."

"I'm not questioning him," Michael said.

"So you wanted to steal a sacred artifact of the Nephilim?" Jocelyn asked.

"I was asked to…" Michael said.

"Did you, or did you not want to steal the Mortal Cup, Michael?" Jocelyn asked. "It's a simple question. Yes, or no?" She looked him in the eyes, the same as she had that night back in the bakery, and somehow, he knew that he could trust her, implicitly.

"No," Michael said. "No. Valentine has no business taking the Mortal Cup. The Angel didn't give it to him; he gave it to all Shadowhunters."

"That is all I wanted to know," Jocelyn said. She burped Jonathan before carefully climbing out of bed and taking him to his bassinet. "Josie. Would you help me wash up? It's been days since I was able to wash my hair, and I would rather a friend help me than my mother. I just need a little bit of girl time. Perhaps a little bit of gossiping between wives." Jocelyn looked back to Michael. "You can leave us, right?"

"Yes, of course," Michael said, slowly climbing off the bed.

"Don't hurry back," Jocelyn said with a smile.

Michael left the room and went downstairs to find Stephen sitting at the kitchen table. There was a book open in front of him but his eyes were on Celine as she made tea at the counter. Celine turned to Michael, opening her mouth, about to say something, but Michael walked past them both and went out the patio door and down to the lake, where he sat down and listened to the wind in the trees.

It was nearly an hour later when the patio door opened and Josie walked out. She came over to Michael and sat beside him, folding her arms as she looked over the lake.

"You could have told me," Josie said. "We are husband and wife. You can't keep secrets from your wife. You promised me, no secrets."

"Valentine threatened your life," Michael said. "He killed Amatis's child and I don't believe for a second that Luke just so happened to die during a routine patrol. I knew this was going to happen." Michael closed his eyes, feeling Josie take his hand and press it to her lips. "I wanted a bright future for our children. I wanted what Valentine wanted in the beginning." He thought of his father's passionate plea for the Circle. Jon truly believed that Valentine was good. How could Michael ever convince him that he wasn't? "I think we should leave the Circle."

"All in good time," Josie said soothingly. "I need things from you, and Jocelyn does as well. I need you to quit working in the prison. It's far too dangerous for you to be working around Downworlders. Valentine will understand. You have a son on the way." She smiled and ran a hand over her stomach, drawing Michael's eyes downward.

"A son?" Michael asked. "We were going to be surprised."

"And I wanted to know something Valentine didn't," Josie said. Michael kissed her on the lips once, then twice, holding her close and resting a hand on her stomach.

"What else do you need from me?" He asked.

"I need you to make up with Stephen. As much as it pains you, he doing what he did, he's going to need a friend and I know you love him, even if you won't admit it," Josie said. Michael rolled his eyes. He knew Josie was right, he couldn't just end his friendship with Stephen. "There is one more thing. Sometime soon, you and I are going to host a party, and the entire Circle is invited."


End file.
